


How Kuroo Found Kenma

by SuggestiveScribe



Series: Breaking the Rules [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Masturbation, Panic Attacks, Rimming, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3988276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuggestiveScribe/pseuds/SuggestiveScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh my God," Kuroo said, eyes growing wide. He slowly turned to fully face Oikawa, "I'm in love with Kenma."</p><p>Oikawa brought his tea to his mouth. "Yeah," he said, smiling through the steam rising in front of his face, "I know."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Finding a Roommate

**Author's Note:**

> WELP.  
> Here it is, the KuroKen spinoff. Honestly "the BROT3 spinoff" is more accurate, because somehow Oikawa is in this as much as Kuroo and Kenma. You don't need to read anything else to read this. Just go for it. The idiots are in college at this point, so it's quite the throwback.  
> I blamed you guys for the DaiSuga mess and I would love to do it again here, but I actually had half of this chapter written before I even started How to Manage... so...
> 
> Happy reading.

"He's like this lanky, half Russian tower of a man," Kuroo explained, waving his fingers above his head to indicate the height of his roommate. "He also happens to be incredibly stupid and he seems exceptionally happy about it."

Oikawa sipped at his frozen coffee, "Mhm."

"When Kai said he found someone to sublease his part of the rent he didn't mention it was a hyperactive foreigner."

"Well, naturally," Oikawa responded, attempting to scoop whipped cream off the top of his drink with his straw. It flopped off the straw and onto the table. Oikawa poked out his lower lip.

"He's only been living with Yaku and I... what, a week?" Kuroo mused, mentally counting back through the days of torture he had endured.

Oikawa was bobbing his straw in the air as he thought, "He wasn't there when I visited last so... yeah. A week."

"A week, and I already want to pull my hair out," Kuroo motioned toward the locks angled out rebelliously from his scalp.

"It looks like you've already tried."

"Shut up. And God," he allowed his arm to fall heavily on the table, "Kenma can't stand him. Every time Kenma comes over I just watch the blood drain out of his face as he tries not to break into a full sprint in the opposite direction."

Oikawa chuckled, "Poor kid. Dealing with you is bad enough as it is."

Kuroo picked up Oikawa's unused plastic spoon and lofted it at his head. Oikawa squeaked as he curled into himself to avoid it. "Improper use of plastic ware!" he whined. Then he opened one eye, peeking over his drink at Kuroo, "What's his name?"

"What?"

"The new guy. Your roommate."

"Oh. Lev."

Oikawa's lips pulled down. "Lev, huh? I expected something more..." his hands twirled around in the air, "Russian."

Kuroo narrowed his eyes in spite of his amusement, "What? What's more Russian than 'Lev'?"  

"Like... like 'Ivan' or 'Maxim'."

Kuroo meant to sigh but it came out as a sort of exasperated chuckle, "Oh, and since he's half Japanese I suppose his family name should be 'Sato'?"

Oikawa looked up at him with genuine interest, "Is Sato still the most common surname in Japan?"

"Please keep up with worldly trends for the sake of my jokes Oikawa."

"Sorry, sorry."

"As I was saying, Kenma can't stand him. But the real problem is Lev _loves_ Kenma."

Oikawa almost snorted, "Oh God."

"He's always so excited to see him. Lev is like that little niece or nephew that loves you to death and always wants to talk to you, and you just do your best to smile and nod while thinking about stuffing a sock in their mouth."

Oikawa almost spit his coffee and covered his lips with his fingers.

"Or like that not-so-well trained dog at your friends house that greets you at the front door by jumping on your chest and drooling all over your shoes."

Oikawa held up his hand, "I can't decide if I'm more appalled that Lev resembles these things or that you just likened a slobbering dog to a human child."

Kuroo moved on without pause, "In any case," he said, leaning back against the cafe seat and interlocking his fingers behind his head, "my lease is up soon and I _thought_ I was going to renew there, but now..."

Oikawa blinked up at him, "Have any offers for a roommate yet?"

"No, I don't even know who I could ask."

Oikawa twisted his mouth down, then poked his straw back into his slushy coffee nonsense. He cocked his head to the side. "Why don't you ask Kenma?" he questioned, pinching the straw between his lips.

Kuroo furrowed his brow, "Kenma?"

Oikawa straightened his back, "You have to have thought about it right? You'll be finishing up your degree pretty soon and Kenma isn't required to stay in the dorms anymore, is he? You guys spend most of your free time together anyway... when we're not playing, that is."

"Hmm," Kuroo hummed, "I didn't really think about it because of his situation with the dorms... but I think you're right..."

Oikawa nodded dramatically with condescendingly wide eyes.

"Huh," Kuroo said, tilting his chin up, "You were useful after all. I think I'll ask him."

"It was only a matter of time anyway."

Kuroo cocked one eyebrow upward, "What?"

Oikawa's eyes fell down to his drink and he hurriedly slurped at it, "Nothing sweetie," he said against his straw.

"Mhm," Kuroo mumbled faithlessly.

But he couldn't deny it, living with Kenma was a good idea. Now all he had to do was ask him.

#

"Knock knock," Kuroo tapped against the doorframe of Kenma's open dorm room.

Kenma glanced up from his desk, visually acknowledged him, then turned his eyes back to his homework.

"I wanted to ask you a few things."

"Go ahead," Kenma said.

"So, you're not required to stay in the dorms anymore are you?" Kuroo was watching Kenma's fingers move his pen in quick strokes over his paper.

"Not since the new semester started, no."

There was groaning from the hallway, and the sound of a loud crash.

Kuroo thought he knew the answer to his next question, but he figured he'd ask anyway, "You're not attached to the dorms for some reason, right?"

Kenma lifted his gaze to Kuroo as Kanji, one of Kenma's roommates, stumbled into the room. "Oh. Kenma-san, Kuroo-san," he greeted weakly. His face was pallid and had a sheen of sweat over his forehead. He winced, chest lurching forward, "Uhg, I'm so hungover."

Kenma looked at Kanji like he had just licked the bottom of a shoe.

"Oh and sorry about last weekend," Kanji was saying, moving behind them slowly while clutching his stomach.

"What happened last weekend?" Kuroo asked.

Kanji paused to lean against the frame of his bed, squeezing his eyes closed, "I puked on his textbook."

Kenma blinked very pointedly at Kuroo, "No," he answered dryly, "not attached."

Kuroo pursed his lips. He wasn't sure if he was smiling or cringing. Maybe a bit of both.

"Well, I would hate to take you away from all that," Kuroo said, fingers sliding against the top of Kenma's desk, "but Lev is driving me nuts and my lease is up this coming weekend. Want to get a place together?"

Kenma cast him a sideways look before moving his eyes back to his notebook, "Sure."

Kuroo blinked and gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, "Well that was easy."

"Did you tell Tooru you were going to ask me?" Kenma asked without much pause.  

"Well..." _he's the one who thought of it, but..._ Kuroo lightly shook his head and restarted, "Why would you think that?"

Kenma scribbled something in his notebook, "Because he texted me and said, 'I just had coffee with your new roommate.'" Kuroo rolled his eyes, but Kenma continued, "At first I was confused, but then he sent another text saying 'he was kind of a cocky dick'." Kenma turned around, eyes on Kuroo's face again, "So I figured he meant you."

 _That damn Oika-- wait._ "Hey, excuse me!" Kuroo said, putting his hand to his chest, "what's that supposed to mean?"

Kenma shrugged and turned back around, "That I know Tooru and I know you, I guess."

Kuroo's lips moved into a flat line, "Thanks buddy."

"Sure," Kenma responded calmly.

Kuroo shook his head. It was the nonchalance in which he wielded his jabs that made Kenma so especially sadistic. Kuroo moved to cross his arms back over his chest, "When would you want to move? I can extend my lease by the week as needed."

"As soon as possible," Kenma answered without looking up.

Kuroo tilted his head.

Kanji groaned, "Oh God." There was rustling, and then the sound of retching behind them. Kuroo scrunched his nose.

Kenma moved his gaze up to Kuroo. "As soon as possible," he repeated.

"I'm going to go take a shower..." Kanji grumbled, moving to leave.

Kuroo turned around, incredulousness all over his face, "What the fuck man? You're going to puke on the carpet and just walk away? You're like a big ugly cat."

Kanji shrunk down at Kuroo's words.

"If I thought hairball medication would have helped this situation I would have started hiding it in his food ages ago," Kenma said to his desk.

Kuroo sighed. "Are there any places you have in mind?" he asked Kenma as he ignored the pathetic whimpers of Kanji behind him.

"You wanted the complex two blocks from the park didn't you?" Kenma asked.

Kuroo paused, "Well... how did you..."

"That's where you were looking before you found a room with Yaku and Kai right? You said the rent was pretty reasonable since it was further from campus."

Kuroo was staring at the top of Kenma's head. He started batting at the strands hanging above his neck. "Are you sure?"

"I'm not really worried about the distance," Kenma answered him without looking up.

"But you haven't looked at it yet..."

"Time is of the essence isn't it?" Kenma responded, turning his gaze to look at him. His gold eyes were clear and sharp, "And I trust you."

Kuroo paused with a strand of Kenma's hair pinched between his fingers. "Okay," he said. He twirled the strand around his finger, "I'll go talk to the property managers tomorrow and see what we can do with such short notice."

"Okay."

Kuroo's phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. A text from Tsukishima.

>> My new roommate has started tutoring with a grad student every weeknight.

Kuroo's lips slid up the right side of his face into a grin. He texted back,

>> Is that an invitation?

The response was succinct, like Tsukishima,

>> A statement.

Kanji was groaning behind them again. "Uhg, I think I'm gonna be sick..." Kenma's fingers twitched around his pen.

Kuroo put his hand on Kenma's shoulder, "How about we go to the library?"

Kenma gave a small sigh, "Okay."

Kuroo's phone vibrated again,

>> Will you be over tonight?

Kenma gathered up his things and Kuroo ushered him toward the door. As they stepped into the hallway Kenma stopped almost abruptly and Kuroo halted behind him, Kenma's shoulders pressed against his chest. Kenma glanced up and behind him to look at Kuroo, "Are you going to stay and study?"

Kuroo blinked. "Sure," he answered. "I have some things I can get done."

Kenma returned his gaze in front of him and started walking again.

Kuroo typed into his phone,

>> Tomorrow?

>> Fine with me.

Kuroo pocketed the phone. The minute he had withdrawn his hand it started ringing.

"Good God," he mumbled, digging into his gym shorts again. Kenma was silently eyeing him out the side of his eyes.

" _What_?" he answered as they plodded down the stairs.

"Aw, is that any way to treat your best friend?"

"Seems to be," Kuroo answered without hesitation.

Oikawa's voice was playful, "What are you guys up to?"

"What, did the boy-toy you had lined up for tonight flake on you?"

Kenma glanced up at Kuroo as Kuroo pushed open the doors to the building, holding it open for Kenma. "Tooru?" Kenma asked. Kuroo nodded.

Oikawa cleared his throat, "That is neither here nor there." Kuroo rolled his eyes. "But I'm free tonight, so what are you doing?"

"We're heading to the library right now," Kuroo informed him.

"Ooh, I can meet you there."

Kuroo clicked his tongue and sighed, exasperated, "Oikawa, don't come to the library. If you show up then all those girls will flock to you."

Oikawa gasped, "That's fine isn't it? They're always sweet and respectful."

"It'll be harder for Kenma to concentrate," Kuroo argued.

"Hm," Oikawa considered for a moment. Then, "I'll wear a hat and sunglasses, they won't even know."

"Oh great," Kuroo responded, "Instead of being stalked by girls you'll be stalked by campus security."

" _Kuroo_ ," Oikawa whined, dragging out the last syllable of Kuroo's name an extra beat.

"It's fine," Kenma said from below Kuroo's field of vision.

Kuroo glanced down at Kenma before bringing his attention back to Oikawa, "Fine, but bring me dinner."

"You take advantage of me," Oikawa pouted into the phone.

"And you take advantage of me," Kuroo said with a smile, "but we love each other, and thus the perfect friendship was born."

"Yeah yeah."

"We're almost there now."

"I'll probably be there in 30 minutes or so," Oikawa responded.

"Alright, see you then."

Kuroo hung up the phone, slipped it back in his pocket, and pledged not to look at it even if it rang.

Once at the library Kuroo sifted through Kenma's discarded notebook because he couldn't bring himself to go over the flashcards he had saved on his phone. Oikawa showed up in the relative timeframe he had set with a bag of takeout.

Kuroo held out his hands excitedly.

"Good to see you too," Oikawa said, setting a foam container in front of him with attitude.

Kenma glanced up as Oikawa set food in front of him, "Oh, thanks Tooru."

Oikawa ruffled his hair.

"Mm, yakisoba. You read my mind," Kuroo said, breaking apart his chopsticks.

"I do what I can."

Kuroo slurped some into his mouth and immediately splattered grease on his face.

"Lord Kuroo, what kind of savage are you?" Oikawa asked, throwing a napkin at him.

It hit Kuroo in the face and Kuroo caught it there, wiping at his mouth, "Thank you."

They ate for awhile, Oikawa chatting and going on about his classes and his mom and those god-awful movies he loves.

Kuroo was just starting to pick his container clean when Oikawa leaned back in his chair, "So how's that beanpole? Have you seen him lately?"

"You mean Tsukishima?" Kuroo asked, setting his utensils aside.

"Yeah."

Kuroo looked up at Oikawa, but Oikawa's eyes were on Kenma. "Fine, I guess," Kuroo answered.

"I wasn't sure if you two were still seeing each other," Oikawa tipped onto the back two legs of his chair, "or whatever the kids call it these days."

Kenma blinked up at him before returning to his work.

Kuroo shrugged, lips tugging at a smirk, "I don't call it anything really."

"Oh?" Oikawa questioned. "You two have been--"

"Tooru, could you pass me a napkin?" Kenma interrupted. Oikawa was staring holes through Kenma's head as he handed him one. Oikawa was strange today. Strang _er_ , rather.

"Anyway," Oikawa continued, dragging his eyes away with some effort, "you two have been exclusive for a bit now haven't you?"

What was the weird feeling Kuroo was getting? Kuroo shifted in his seat, "I wouldn't say that."

Oikawa blinked, tilting his head, "Have you been with someone else?"

Kenma's pen stopped moving on his paper.

"No..." Kuroo answered, suspiciously narrowing his eyes at Oikawa.

"But you and the giant--"

Kuroo shrugged.

Oikawa fluttered his hands, eyes moving away from his face, "Okay."

Kenma hadn't resumed writing, and his eyes were fluttering closed. "Kenma, you alright?" Kuroo asked.

Kenma nodded, but set down his pen. "I'm really tired," he said, still not opening his eyes.

"Aww, the food made him sleepy," Oikawa cooed. "He's so cute, our little Ken-chan."

Kuroo shook his head, "Don't call him that. Our moms call him that," but Kuroo was smiling. "Kenma, do you want to go home?"

Kenma blinked, mouth pulled down with drowsiness, "It smells like vomit."

Oikawa made a horrified face.

Kuroo laughed, "You can stay with me if you can handle Lev."

Kenma's voice was low and soft, "Lev is better than vomit."

"Am I ever going to understand this?" Oikawa asked.

"Okay," Kuroo said, pushing his seat back with his knees. He tapped Kenma's hand, "Let's go."

"I guess I'll be heading back too," Oikawa said as they moved to leave the building. "Good luck with the Russian."

"Thanks," Kuroo said as they turned to walk in different directions. Kenma was quiet and Kuroo was too, so the short walk was a relaxing one. When they got back to Kuroo's apartment Yaku was passed out in his room and Lev was gone. They settled on the couch for a bit, Kuroo sliding across the cushions to slowly take up all the space. Kenma didn't even comment on it, he just moved to lay down, which he did on top of Kuroo since there wasn't much space for side by side.

He laid his head on Kuroo's chest and curled his hand into his shirt, legs draped over his as his breath started coming slow and easy.

Kuroo was mindlessly watching TV with one arm behind his neck to prop up his head when Lev came home. When he saw them his eyes grew wide and bright, mouth opening to speak.

Kuroo brought his finger to his mouth with a knowing smile.

Lev blinked, cocking his head to the side to gaze at Kenma. "Ooh," he whispered. Then he smiled, nice and broad, "He looks like a kitten."

Kuroo smirked and Lev straightened his back and moved into the kitchen. As much as Kuroo didn't want to rouse Kenma, he also didn't want to take up the couch if Lev wanted it.

Kuroo shifted, lightly tapping at Kenma's shoulder. Kenma's hand tightened in his shirt, but other than that he didn't respond.

Kuroo sighed, then wrapped his arms tight around Kenma before moving into a sitting position. Then he stood, still supporting Kenma's weight, and carried him to his room.

He set Kenma down on the bed while he changed, and when he slid beside him Kenma stirred. He turned into Kuroo, forehead against Kuroo's neck and face in his chest.

Lev wasn't wrong. Kenma always slept like a cat, curled into a ball against whatever was warmest.

Kenma wasn't moving to grab the covers, but he still looked a little cold so Kuroo wrapped his arms around him and sighed after inhaling the scent of his hair.

#

"Oikawa," Kuroo said into the phone.

"Mm. Hmm?" was his answer. He was definitely still sprawled out in bed.

Kenma had an early morning lecture, and had showered and left awhile ago. "Can you come with me to the property management office?"

There was a pause, followed by some rustling. "What? Property…" Kuroo waited for the neurons to start firing in Oikawa's brain. Then there was a breath, like Oikawa finally had a bearing on where he was, and he said, "Oh. Right. Why?"

Kuroo knew how to get his way, "I need to use your good looks."

Kuroo could practically see Oikawa move the hair out of his face as he smiled, "Ah, my beauty does have its advantages."

"Can you be ready in under an hour?"

"I can I guess… but Kuroo…" Oikawa sounded hesitant.

"What?"

"I know that I'm… well," he chuckled, " _me_ —"

Kuroo was silently shaking his head with pursed lips.

"But are you unaware that you're attractive? I'm sure you could make eyes at whoever you need to make eyes at."

"Eh? Thanks I guess. But one of those girls that follows you around works for the property managers. I figure if you bat your pretty eyelashes at her she might be more likely to let me move in immediately."

"Ah, okay. It's not like I mind." Kuroo could hear the sheets move as Oikawa sat up, "But if you're ever feeling down on yourself just remember that Oikawa Tooru wouldn't have given you the time of day if you weren't gorgeous."

"Gee thanks Oikawa."

"No problem."

"Get your ass out of bed."

"I'm going!"

#

Using Oikawa had worked. They took a look at Kuroo's credit and past property history and told him he could move into an empty unit starting this weekend, giggling all the while. The girl at the front desk had slipped Oikawa a business card with her number scribbled on the back, and Oikawa had taken it gratefully with a bright smile and warm voice.

Kuroo called Kenma and left him a message to meet them after the gym. He had received a text an hour later with a simple, "Okay."

Kuroo flapped his over-large gym shirt in front of himself to flush cool air over his sweat tinged body.

"Aaaah, what a workout," Oikawa sighed, taking a long sip of water from his bottle.

Kuroo's eyes were scanning in front of him when he finally caught sight of Kenma. "Oi Kenma," he called, raising his arm slightly. Kenma looked up, then back down at his phone as he took a few strides toward them to close the distance. "I wanted to talk to you about when we're gonna move."

"Mm," Kenma said, eyes fixed on his phone.

Kuroo thrust his thumb to point in the direction of Oikawa, "Using the pretty boy worked. They're willing to let us move in whenever we want." Oikawa winked.

"Mm," Kenma repeated.

Kuroo frowned. "What day is best?"

There was a silence as Kenma hurriedly typed something, "Doesn't really matter."

Kuroo redirected his pointing thumb at Kenma. "Is he listening to me?" he asked Oikawa.

"He's not listening to you," Oikawa affirmed.

"Hold on Kuroo, I'm texting one of my group mates," there was a pause as Kenma frowned down at the screen, "I don't understand how they got into such an advanced level design class with so little knowledge."

Kuroo blinked down at him.

"Actually, I think I need to," Kenma started to take a step back and away from Kuroo. Kuroo fully lifted his shirt and swooped it down over Kenma's head, trapping him.

"I want to talk to you so I can get all my stuff moved," Kuroo rumbled.

Kenma shifted under the shirt, mildly flailing for a moment, and then went still.

"Kurooooo" Oikawa whined, "Don't endanger the life of one of my best friends! Your gym stench will kill him!"

Kuroo grinned.

Kenma moved again, and Kuroo could feel his shoulder blades shifting against his ribs. Then he slurped his arms and hands up into the shirt. Kuroo saw the screen of his phone light up under the fabric, and then heard Kenma start typing.

Kuroo sighed.

"Just let me finish teaching my classmate the whole of my last two years of study in one text message."

"Tell him to get wrecked," Kuroo said, "he's not your problem."

"I have to work with his code," Kenma explained calmly, albeit muffled under cotton, "he is my problem."

The top of Kenma's head was visible through the neck hole of Kuroo's t-shirt. "Do you plan on growing your hair out brown again?" Kuroo asked idly before resting his chin on the top of Kenma's head.

He felt Kenma shrug against him, "Not really."

"You know I have a really sparse schedule the next two weeks," Oikawa said, flipping his phone closed and depositing it in the pocket of his gym shorts. "I can help you guys move."

Kuroo moved his eyes over without pulling his chin away from Kenma's head, "Aah, that'd be helpful."

He felt Kenma stop typing and drop his arms down, hands now visible below the hem of Kuroo's shirt.

Kuroo pulled his shirt up over Kenma's head, watching as his hair spun upward before falling back down disheveled over his face. Kuroo flicked his hand through Kenma's locks, pushing them away from his forehead. "When's best for you Kenma?" Kuroo asked. "I know you're busy."

Kenma patted unthinking at his hair and flicked a strand out of his eyes. "Sooner the better," he said, voice still level. "Your lease is up this weekend right? Let's just do it then."

"Eh, isn't that cutting it close as far as packing?" Oikawa asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Not really," Kuroo and Kenma responded in unison. Kuroo continued, "We're sharing a small space with a bunch of people. I don't even have a lot of my own stuff at the apartment."

"I mostly have to move schoolwork and games," Kenma said, eyes moving along the sidewalk. "And clothes."

"Neh," Kuroo said, waving the sentence off with his hand, "who needs clothes."

Oikawa gave him a wry look, "Not everyone is content to looking and smelling like they're living out of their gym locker."

"Pfft," Kuroo scoffed, "Laundry is a pain. There are soap ratios and drying and _folding_ , God, it's too much."

Oikawa flicked his head, bangs bobbing across his forehead, "So easily defeated. It's a simple price to pay to look put together."

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, "Don't act all high and mighty when you take your clothes back to your mom every weekend."

Oikawa's smile _almost_ twitched out of place, "What matters is I look impeccable."

"Uh-huh."

Oikawa shrugged, "But if you think that's enough time to get everything packed up, it's whatever. I'll be there to help you move it."

Kuroo nodded, "And it's not like Yaku and Lev are going to throw my stuff in the street if it's not gone in a few days. It's really just a matter of having somewhere _else_. Get the bed and the TV in the new place and I'll be fine for a week."

Oikawa shook his head, "I can't decide if you're Spartan or just lazy."

"Yes," Kuroo answered. "And with that decided, I have somewhere to be."

Kenma glanced up at him, then brought his eyes back to his phone, "Alright, I'll see you later."

Oikawa blinked down at Kenma, "Kenma, I want ice cream."

Kenma's expression was flat, "O... kay..."

"Come with me," he said, leaning over slightly. Oikawa had the habit of trying to look under Kenma's hair and the tilt of his chin to stare more directly at his face. Kenma usually hated that, but he had learned to tolerate it with Oikawa.

"Alright."

Oikawa beamed, "I'll buy you something."

"I don't need--"

"We'll see you later Kuroo," Oikawa called, waving at him as they turned to walk in the opposite direction.

Kuroo nodded, heel pivoting on the pavement to take him toward a set of apartments a few blocks from there.

#

"Hey," Kuroo greeted casually once the door opened.

Tsukishima's eyes regarded him without expression, "Hey," and then he swung the door fully open.

Kuroo climbed the stairs just beyond the entryway, following Tsukishima's slender shoulders.

Tsukishima didn't bother with pretenses. He walked straight to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

"Being careful are we?" Kuroo asked with an upward twitch of his eyebrow.

Tsukishima was wiping off his glasses, standing at the foot of his bed, "No reason not to be."

Kuroo walked up to him as he slid his glasses back over his eyes. He stopped when their noses were almost touching.

"So, every weeknight huh?"

Tsukishima regarded him entirely level despite the very light dust of pink over his cheekbones, "Yes."

Kuroo slid his hand up Tsukishima's side without taking his eyes off him, palm grazing over skin as he pushed up his shirt, "Maybe your roommate likes older men."

Tsukishima's eye twitched as he pulled his face into practiced composure, "Maybe. It's none of my business."

His voice was so low and airy, calm and smooth. Kuroo's lips were pulling into an even steeper grin, "When does he usually get home?"

Tsukishima cocked his head slightly, chin tilting up with his voice, "Are you going to chat about my roommate all day or are you going to fuck me?"

Kuroo shoved at Tsukishima's shoulder, the edge of the bed forcing his knees to buckle. He fell on the bed and Kuroo dropped down on top of him, lips split in a smirk. "Tsu. Ki," he enunciated, the tip of his tongue playing with each syllable. He dropped down closer to his face and his voice dipped into a purr, "When will your roommate be home?"

Tsukishima broke eye contact, head tilting away from Kuroo, "Hours," he answered, "he's always really late."

Kuroo smiled, knotting his fist in Tsukishima's hair and yanking it to the side, "Good," and then he bit at Tsukishima's ear. Tsukishima clicked his tongue, but Kuroo knew the difference by now, knew the condescending "tch" he used in conversation versus the one he used to cover the sound of a gasp at the back of his throat. Kuroo's hand flicked open the button of Tsukishima's jeans and he moved to slide downward, "I'll take my time with you then."

#

Kuroo collapsed face first on the couch, "Uuuuhg," he groaned against the cushion.

"Phew, it sure was hot today. Moving all that furniture was a _pain_ ," Oikawa flopped down on top of Kuroo's legs and Kuroo grunted.

"Thanks for helping with all the heavy stuff Tooru," Kenma said.

"No problem!"

Kuroo tilted his head to peer over the cushion with one eye. "Oi, Kenma," he said, voice muffled against the cushion, "What are you doing?"

Kenma was settling down on his knees, hands moving to open a box. "Unpacking," he answered simply.

Kuroo rolled, violently yanking his legs out from under Oikawa. Oikawa squawked and fell over on the couch. "No you're not," Kuroo said, moving to stand.

Kenma blinked up at Kuroo, gold eyes dark in the limited light of their new apartment. They had gotten all the big stuff in place; Beds, dressers, TV, couch, coffee table, and Kenma's desk. The rest of their stuff was packed away, some of it in old dusty boxes that had come directly from their parent's.

"It's been a long day. Let's relax."

Kenma looked down at the box, "But--"

"No 'buts'," Kuroo said. "I know where we packed away the tea and where the cups are. If I make you a cup will you sit down with us?"

Kenma was biting the inside of his cheek.

Kuroo grinned, "I know you're tired."

Kenma stood, "Not really... but if it's that important to you, it's fine I guess."

Oikawa's head tipped backward over the couch so he was looking at them upside down, "Yay, Kenma," he reached out with his hands, "sit with me."

Kenma didn't make contact with his hands, but he did join him on the couch.

"What can we watch?" Oikawa was asking, voice light and bubbling like he wasn't tired at all.

"I set up the Playstation, so just turn on Netflix."

"Okay~" Oikawa sang as Kuroo walked toward the kitchen. He knew how much Kenma liked his tea at night so he had made sure to clearly mark the box. He unpacked three mismatched glasses and began boiling water. He could hear Oikawa flipping through the shows and movies, happily commenting on each one. Every now and then there was a small murmur from Kenma, but it was too low to hear what he was saying.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. It was from Tsukishima again,

>> There's a good local band playing at one of the bars on campus tomorrow night. Wanna go?

Kuroo typed his answer easily,

>> Sure thing.

They didn't go out much. That wasn't really how their relationship worked. But they both appreciated music-- it was how they met, actually-- so this could be nice.

Kuroo pocketed his phone and walked back out to the living room, "I come bearing herb water." He set the cups down in front of them.

Kenma reached for his right away, cradling it in his hands, "Thank you," he responded, inhaling the steam.

Kuroo sat down between them, legs and arms spread out wide and lazily.

"What is it?" Oikawa asked, grabbing his cup.

Kuroo shrugged, "I don't know, some lemon crap."

"Sounds delicious," Oikawa responded dryly.

Kuroo pinched his arm and he squeaked.

"Tooru, just put that on," Kenma directed before taking a tentative sip of his tea.

Oikawa raised his eyebrows, "You sure? You've seen it before."

Kenma nodded once, "It's fine, I'm kind of t--" his eyes slid to the side, scornfully regarding Kuroo's cocky grin before continuing, "kind of tired," he finally went on, "so I don't want to concentrate on something new."

"Okay."

Oikawa started up the movie, and Kuroo watched it passively. More than anything he was thinking about their new place and everything that was left to unpack. Rent would be higher split between just the two of them, but it would be infinitely more peaceful. Kuroo was looking forward to it.

Kenma curled his legs up on the couch, and after fifteen minutes or so his eyes started to flutter closed, head bobbing as he attempted to keep himself awake.

Kuroo lightly touched his shoulder, "Hey."

Kenma straightened, tilting his gaze in Kuroo's direction.

"Why don't you go to bed?"

Kenma nodded, moving to stand up. Then he spoke, voice low and whispery with sleep, "Kuroo. I have a group meeting in the morning, but I want to unpack most of this tomorrow... can you work on it with me tomorrow night?"

Kuroo nodded, "Yeah sure."

Kenma nodded, said a tiny sleepy, "Thank you", and then shuffled off toward the bathroom.

Kuroo slid his hand in his pocket, withdrawing his phone and bringing up his text thread with Tsukishima.

>> I'm actually going to be busy tomorrow night. Moving into a new apartment and all. Rain check?

Tsukishima responded a few minutes later,

>> Okay.

Oikawa was peering over Kuroo's hand at the phone screen as he typed. Oikawa was excessively nosy and he was very bad at hiding it. Not that Kuroo gave a shit; he didn't bother to hide much from anyone, let alone Oikawa and Kenma.

Oikawa was blinking at the phone as Kuroo set it on the table in front of them and grabbed the remote.

"Let's watch something else, shall we?" Kuroo asked rhetorically, backing out of the movie, "or I'll fall asleep too."

Oikawa didn't say anything, he just kept peering at him.

Kuroo was lazily flipping through the options as Oikawa readjusted on the couch, bringing his feet onto the cushion so he was sitting on them. Kuroo could see him scanning his hands, his face. Finally Oikawa sighed, relaxing into position. "So," he started, bringing his eyes back to Kuroo's profile, "when are you going to tell Kenma?"

Kuroo only slightly adjusted his gaze to glance at Oikawa before returning it to the screen, "Tell Kenma what?"

Oikawa blinked, "That you're in love with him."

The sentence had to replay in Kuroo's mind before he snapped his head to the side, rearing back in surprise, "What?" he asked, voice rising incredulous.

Oikawa was staring at him, expression entirely serious. "You're in love with Kenma," he repeated.

Kuroo narrowed his eyes, and then his head tipped back and he laughed, he laughed from deep in his chest in heavy breaths, "Oh Oikawa, you're funny tonight."

Oikawa tilted his head, lip pulling up and nose scrunching into a sort of sneer that looked like Kuroo had just asked him bathe in dirt or lick a cactus or have sex with a woman.

"What is with that face?"

"I'm just trying to decide if you're stupid or if you think I'm stupid."

Kuroo held out his hands, "Both, but neither are related to this conversation."

Oikawa rolled his eyes, "Listen, Kuroo. You must be in serious denial or something."

"Why would I--"

"What did you masturbate to last?"

Kuroo almost choked on his own spit, "Oikawa what the fuck?"

"I'm serious!" Oikawa said, voice high and expression, well, serious, "what did you think about last time you jacked off?"

"Aw Oikawa," Kuroo said, smirk pulling wide across his face, "you want to give it another go? It's been years but we could roll around again for old time's sake."

Oikawa's face pinched like he was thinking about screaming or punching Kuroo in the face or both, "Shut up and answer my question you damned pervert." Oikawa turned, facing Kuroo squarely on the couch, "Tell me what you thought about."

Kuroo sighed, head falling back on the couch. When was it-- just kidding, it was this morning. Kuroo blinked at the ceiling. What _had_ he thought about? Oh, _riiight_. Kuroo was grinning, "It doesn't matter, it's just normal shit. Something every gay man thinks about. No, every man. In general."

"A blowjob," Oikawa deducted.

"Indeed."

"From who?" Oikawa asked, eyebrows raised, body leaning in closer.

Kuroo leaned away from him.

"Did said person happen to have dark roots and gold hair? Tiny mouth? Big gold cat eyes?"

Kuroo waved his hand, "Come on Oikawa, that's normal too."

Oikawa frowned, "What's normal?"

"The whole... forbidden fruit thing. The 'I-can't-touch-it-so-I-want-to thing'."

"Okay," Oikawa said, straightening his back again, "you're telling me you thought about Kenma sucking your dick this morning--"

"What makes you think it was this morning?"

"Wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Well then shut up."

Kuroo crossed his arms over his chest.

Oikawa continued, "You're telling me you got off to the thought of Kenma sucking your dick this morning and there was nothing to it."

"There's not!" Kuroo defended, uncrossing his arms. "He's my best friend, and he's really cute, and there's just... that little extra sense of naughtiness when I think about him, so that's why. Nothing more, nothing less."

"You are so full of shit."

"Oikawa, why are you so hung up on this?"

"Fine. When's the last time you _didn't_ think about Kenma. During... you know."

"Oh, you're bashful _now_."

"Answer the fucking question."

Kuroo groaned, sighing as he sifted through his memories. "Jeeze man, I don't know."

Oikawa was giving him a dubious look.

Kuroo was chuckling, "Oikawa, where is this coming from all of a sudden?"

"It's not sudden," Oikawa answered quickly and easily, "it's the exact opposite of sudden. It's been throughout our entire friendship."

Kuroo rolled his eyes.

"Okay, fine. But let me ask you this," Oikawa was back to leaning toward him, eyebrows forever climbing higher. Kuroo sighed, but he would humor him. Oikawa went on, and his lips were almost smiling. It was obvious he thought he was onto something, "You're pretty touchy feely with Kenma, right?" Kuroo blinked at Oikawa without verbal acknowledgement. "I mean, Kenma doesn't even like to be touched. Like when we first met and I tried to pat him on the shoulder he dipped down and shrunk away from me like a damned cat."

"Get to the point."

"Okay," Oikawa said, holding his hands out in front of him, "imagine all of the things you do-- the grasping of arms, the sitting on laps, sleeping together, mussing with his hair, all that--" Oikawa's eyes grew a little wide, "and now imagine someone else doing the same things to him."

Kuroo stared at Oikawa.

"And he likes it," Oikawa said, nodding, "Kenma likes this other person touching him."

Kuroo was biting at the side of his tongue. He thought about it. The way he pulled Kenma onto his lap and how Kenma unconsciously snuggled against him, all the random little interactions and touches that had slowly built since they were small. He imagined someone else in his place.

He felt his face growing hot.

Kuroo was starting to get distinctly uncomfortable. Oikawa was staring at him, watching his every breath and blink like it would show him the secrets of the universe. His chest... did his chest feel a little tight?

And then Kuroo imagined Kenma initiating the touches. Kenma leaning into someone else, grabbing at someone else's shirt. He imagined someone grabbing Kenma's hand and Kenma smiling a small smile.

Kuroo felt his heart clench in his chest. He should be happy if Kenma is happy. But he wasn't. There was some hypothetical man touching Kenma and Kuroo wasn't happy for them at all. Kuroo was _angry_.

Oikawa swallowed, "Imagine them kissing."

Heat flashed across Kuroo's face and it felt like a stake was driven through his heart. He felt his mouth go dry. Oikawa was silent.

Kuroo felt his hand shaking. "Oh my God," he said, eyes growing wide. He slowly turned to fully face Oikawa, "I'm in love with Kenma."

Oikawa brought his tea to his mouth. "Yeah," he said, smiling through the steam rising in front of his face, "I know."

Kuroo dropped his gaze to the table, "Holy fucking shit."

"And I didn't even have to bring up how neither of you have ever been in a serious relationship. Has Kenma... has he even dated, really? I know he went out a couple of times with a few people but--"

"Oikawa," Kuroo said, turning his attention over to Oikawa with wide eyes, "What do I do?"

Oikawa blinked at him, "Uhm... what?"

Kuroo was the one leaning in this time, "What the fuck do I _do_?"

"What? Kuroo, I don't know. It's not like this is a new thing--"

"It absolutely _is_ a new thing," Kuroo corrected him.

Oikawa shook his head, "I'm pretty sure you loved him your whole life, Kuroo."

Kuroo waved his hands in front of him, "That doesn't matter. I didn't _realize_ it until just now."

"Which I will never let you live down, by the way, you big idiot."

Kuroo put his head in his hands, "Oh my God, I'm in love with my best friend."

Oikawa took another sip of his tea, "Yep, good luck with that."

"You rat bastard."

"You're welcome."

Kuroo groaned, "I can't believe this."

"Well hey," Oikawa said with a peppy shrug of his shoulders, "you already got him to move in with you."

Kuroo fell over on the couch and groaned even louder against his palms.

Oikawa pat his hip, "There there."

"Go to Hell."

"I'm taking you with me."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys look. The slow burn tag is back. We all know how well that went last time. BUT SERIOUSLY I'm gonna... I can... I believe in myself! Maybe! Help! 
> 
> http://suggestivescribe.tumblr.com/


	2. Finding Little Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sex is easy, love is hard."

Kuroo was balancing on the edge of a dream.

He was in that state that's hard to classify; that state that's not entirely awake or asleep. All the images were still bright and vivid, but there was a flutter of consciousness at the edges, the acknowledgement of mental stirring.

But Kuroo didn't want to wake up. So he clung to the dream for all he was worth, allowed his mind to relax into the warm comfort of hazy delusions.

Kenma's hand was running over his shoulder and up his neck.

Kuroo could feel himself hum, was blinking up to look at Kenma who was perched on his lap. And if that wasn't a clear indicator that it was a dream then the clips in Kenma's bangs certainly were; the clips he had worn yesterday night while unpacking. Kuroo had asked him to keep them in and Kenma had blinked thoughtfully for a moment before dropping his hands back to his sides.

Kuroo had spent all night trying not to stare. Trying not to watch Kenma's graceful movements too obviously. But Kuroo had kept him in his peripheral, watching the tilt of his mouth, bite of his lip, slide of his fingers across closed boxes. And now it was all here before him, painted bright and real and _warm_ in his dream.

Kuroo inhaled as his lips slid up Kenma's neck. Blonde strands slipped around his lips. Kenma shuddered out a small breath, his thighs twitching tighter on either side of Kuroo's.

Kuroo's hands held Kenma's hips. It all seemed so obvious now.

He pushed the thoughts away. No thinking. Dreaming. Keep dreaming.

How desperately he wanted to feel those hips stir beneath his touch.

Kuroo pressed a kiss below Kenma's ear. Trailed down. Light kisses all down his neck before moving back up again, over to the angle of his jaw, the corner of his mouth--

Kuroo felt himself shiver. The warmth of Kenma's mouth, the soft pout, the shake of breath.

Kuroo could have groaned. He wanted to press himself so fully against that mouth. Feel the mutual push and pull of air and lips. He tried but things weren't working. Images were slipping, tilting sideways out of focus.

"Kuroo."

The voice was soft but far removed. Kuroo shook his head as his hand moved up Kenma's back.

"Kuroo."

Kuroo heaved a breath, but the voice came again, " _Kuroo_ ," and his shoulders were shaking. Kuroo felt the ground slip beneath his feet, but eh? He had never been standing in the first place.

His eyes flew open, lurching forward and chest jumping as if he'd been falling.

Kenma was blinking at him, slightly bent over to shake his shoulder. His lips paused in the middle of another "Kuroo", breath falling silently from his mouth.

"Oh," Kuroo said, blinking quickly. "Morning."

"You were grunting in your sleep," Kenma informed him, pulling his hand away from Kuroo's shoulder, "I thought you might have been having a bad dream."

"Ah," Kuroo said with a smirk, "Thanks." There was a small silence and then Kuroo added, "On a scale of one to ten, how obvious is it that I have a boner right now?"

Kenma blinked at him without moving his eyes from his face, "Twelve."

Kuroo coughed a laugh, "How shameful," he said through his smile.

Kenma looked at him with a disbelieving expression, "When in your life have you ever been embarrassed or ashamed of a boner?"

Kuroo blinked, lips pulling down, "Good point."

"Also you didn't wake up when your phone started making all that noise--"

"Excuse you," Kuroo interrupted seriously. "That was not noise. That was The Beastie Boys, and they are invaluable artists."

"Fine."

Kuroo narrowed his eyes, "Take it back."

Kenma pursed his lips, "You didn't wake up when your phone began the auditory assault known as the Beastie Boys, so I thought you might be missing a class."

Kuroo smiled, "Good enough. And thanks, but I don't have my first lecture today."

"I'm going to be late," Kenma said, straightening his back. "I'll see you tonight."

"Sure," Kuroo said, his head lolling against his pillow. "Have fun. Be safe. Try not to look too cute in front of packs of gay men."

Kenma turned to give him one last annoyed stare before walking out of his room.

Kuroo sighed, then turned his eyes down to his boner, "Well hello there. Indeed you are a twelve."

#

"Practice got out way late today," Oikawa said, stepping outside into the dark. "I'm going to have to forego that accounting homework..."

Kuroo was pulling his phone out of his bag to check his messages as they paused in front of the gym, "Oikawa you're a business major, you should do your accounting homework."

Oikawa shot him a dirty look, "I have an A in every class this semester, thank you very much." He raised an eyebrow and tilted his chin, "And what about you, Kuroo?"

"My parents and I are perfectly content with my B and C medley, don't be a jerk." Then he frowned, "Oh, Kenma sent me a message right before we started practice."

"What does it say?"

"Hmm..." Kuroo's eyes moved over the words, "He asked if I left one of his extra game controllers at my old apartment."

"Probably."

Kuroo tapped out a message to Yaku, "I'll just go by there and look real quick. Should probably double check to make sure it's all cleared out anyway."

"Can't hurt. I'll go with you."

"Now you're just _trying_ to avoid the accounting homework."

Oikawa stuck out his tongue.

When they finally arrived Yaku answered the door. "How's the new place?" he asked, chin tilted up to look at Kuroo.

"Great," he responded with a grin, "how's the old one?"

Yaku gave him a very serious stare. "Lev," he answered.

Kuroo was chuckling as he followed him up the stairs.

"Take your time. Get what you need."

"Thanks," Kuroo said, moving to walk into his room.

"Kuroo-san!" Lev cheered from the kitchen. "Long time no see!"

"Not really Lev."

"Oh, who's this?" Lev asked, tilting his head at Oikawa. "I thought Kuroo-san was dating Kenma-san."

Kuroo's eye twitched as Oikawa answered with a broad grin, "I'm just the handsome genius he keeps on retainer." Lev was blinking in confusion over large owlish eyes.

Kuroo slapped his hand over Oikawa's face and Oikawa squawked. "He's my asshole sidekick," Kuroo corrected. "And I'm not dating anyone."

The light blue of Lev's irises flickered as he put his fingers to his chin in thought, lips turning down, "Are you sure? Kenma-san is--"

"Yes, I'm sure of whether or not I'm dating someone, Lev," Kuroo said through a clenched grin, "but I'll tell Kenma you said hello."

Lev's face brightened, "Okay!"

Kuroo sighed he turned to go into his old room, Oikawa giggling beside him all the while. "Even the man you titled 'The Idiot Russian' could tell," he commented happily.

"He just has ideas in his head because he saw us sleep together," Kuroo said, eyes lifting to look in the top of his closet. His _old_ closet.

Oikawa was giving him a dry stare, "I think that's a normal assumption to make."

"Ah, but I'm not really sure how to proceed with all this," Kuroo was moving onto his tiptoes to peer at the back corners of the shelf above the clothes rack. He paused, lowering himself back to his heels as he thought. "Hey, Oikawa."

"Hm?"

"When we... you know. Did you... know?"

Oikawa clicked his tongue in exasperation, " _What_?"

Kuroo turned around to face him, "Did you know I was in love with Kenma when you and I had sex?"

Oikawa furrowed his brow, "God yes. Of course yes."

Kuroo wordlessly threw up his hands.

"What!?" Oikawa sounded faintly offended, "What was I supposed to say? We weren't even close friends at that point, we were just really friendly acquaintances who ended up..."

Kuroo blinked over to him, "Inside each other."

"Oh my God."

"Well, I guess you're right," Kuroo admitted with a sigh, "I would have denied it anyway."

Oikawa shook his head, "No shit. You were already a decade deep in repression."

"Jeeze, but now I don't know what to do!" Kuroo let his arms fall heavily at his sides. "He's my best friend, so maybe he won't think it's a big deal? Or maybe it will creep him out? _Aah_ ," Kuroo scrambled his hands through his hair, "I haven't felt this at odds since I was with a woman."

"Ooh, that's right," Oikawa cooed, leaning forward. "I forgot that you had been with a woman." He narrowed his eyes, squinting, and then dropped his voice, "What's that like?"

Kuroo paused, then moved his hands in the air, fingers twitching as he tried to grasp the words. Eventually he looked to Oikawa with a decisive nod, "Squishy."

Oikawa hummed, nodding with keen interest as if this was vital information.

There was noise from the other room, "NO. I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP."

"Yaku-san, you're much shorter than me so let me get it for you."

Kuroo cringed.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT."

"I suppose I could lift--"

There was the sound of something being thrown-- a box of cereal, maybe?-- a yelp, and then more screaming, "APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW. GET DOWN HERE WHERE I CAN SEE YOU, YOU SHITTY RUSSIAN."

Kuroo snorted.

Oikawa tilted his head, "2000 yen says they exchange orgasms within a month."

Kuroo blinked, "Oh yeah? Do they make gay Russians?"

Oikawa shrugged, "They have to right? Either way you'll have your answer in a month or less."

Kuroo chuckled, "If you're that confident I'm probably just going to agree with you."

Oikawa beamed.

"Well I don't see anything in here and the controller was out on the table. Let's get going."

Kuroo went back out into the living room to see Lev sitting on his feet amidst a box of spilled cereal, pieces strewn all across the carpet and tile. They both turned their heads to look at him.

"You're gonna get ants," Kuroo advised.

Yaku tilted his head, "Cleaning up this mess is part of this idiot's punishment for being disrespectful." He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed.

Oikawa leaned over to Kuroo and whispered, " _Yaku's a dom_."

Yaku opened his eyes, "What was that?"

"Nothing," Kuroo answered with a broad grin, "He just said you're a bit strict."

Yaku's mouth pulled down, "How else will he learn?"

Oikawa smiled bright and charming, "With a whip."

Kuroo slapped the back of his head. Yaku's eyes narrowed.

"Anyway," Kuroo broke away with a flashing smile, "I didn't find anything else. Thanks for letting me pick this up so late." He bent over and grabbed the controller.

"No problem."

"Come back soon!" Lev cheered from the floor, "Bring Kenma-san!"

"Sure, yeah," _He would **love** that_.

As they walked down the stairs Oikawa was deep in thought. Finally he spoke, eyes fixed on something only he could see, "I'm almost confident enough to narrow my previous guess down to two weeks."

Kuroo coughed a laugh, "But when will Lev see the whip?"

" _Ooh_ , good question."

"It wasn't a real questi--"

"Two months."

"Jesus Oikawa."

They walked along in silence for awhile. The streets were dark, round blotches of light blanching the ground and leading them toward the apartment.

"I'm just gonna tell him," Kuroo eventually said, tapping the controller against his palm as they walked.  

"Good, tell him," Oikawa encouraged, pulling the water bottle he used for practice out of his bag.

"I mean, that's how our relationship has always been; we don't keep secrets from each other," Kuroo added, not entirely sure whether it was for Oikawa or himself.

"Except that you've been in love with him since--"

"That wasn't a _secret_ ," Kuroo corrected before he could continue, "that was a... lack of proper self reflection."

" _Or,_ " Oikawa offered optimistically, "you being an idiot."

"Shut up."

"Make me~~" he sang.

Kuroo stared blankly into the dark as he thought. How bad could it be? It should be easy. Just keep it casual, keep it honest, talk to Kenma like he would about anything else. 'Hey Kenma, I have feelings for you', would probably work. Maybe even 'Hey Kenma, I realized that I'm in love with you'. Kuroo felt himself start to sweat. That one might be a little heavy. 'Hey Kenma, I spend a lot of time thinking about your mouth wrapped around my--'

No, not that one.

And then Kenma could say what he wanted to say.

Kuroo's feet halted over the pavement. Oikawa stopped, tilting his head to look at him with a small, "Hm?"

What Kenma wanted to say.

Kuroo blinked. What _would_ he say? It's no big deal right? Even if he says no, even if he's not interested...

Kuroo felt his blood freeze _. Holy shit what if he's not interested._

Kuroo looked at Oikawa with wide eyes, "What if he says _no_?"

"What if he says no _what_?" Oikawa asked in confusion before taking a sip of his water.

Kuroo's free hand was fluttering around, "What if I tell him I love him and he's just like... ' _ick_ '."

Oikawa almost choked on his drink, " _'Ick'_ , Kuroo?" He shook his head as he wiped at his mouth, "He's not going to say ' _ick_ '. The absolute worst he could ever do is just make that... disgusted scrunchy face he makes."

Kuroo staggered backwards, "Oh my God _that's so much worse_." Kuroo leaned into Oikawa's face, clutching his chest, "What if he makes the scrunchy face at me!?"

"He's not going to!" Oikawa responded instantly, holding up his hands.

Kuroo straightened his back, head lolling forward as his eyes fell to the sidewalk, "I can't do this, I'm going to ruin our friendship."

"Oh my God," Oikawa said with a roll of his eyes. "You're a grown ass man afraid of someone crinkling their nose at you. Please relocate your balls."

" _I know exactly where my balls are Oikawa,"_ Kuroo whispered yelled at him," _They're hiding inside of my body because they're afraid of the 'ick' face._ "

A couple walked by, regarding Kuroo with wide, blinking eyes. Oikawa gave them a polite smile before turning back to Kuroo and pressing his fingers against his temples, "Jesus Christ, you're already unstable. This is going to be a disaster."

"I'm not unstable!" Kuroo hissed, "This is a normal reaction to life ruining possibilities."

"Nothing has even happened yet!"

"This, Oikawa," Kuroo said, pointing at his exact location on the sidewalk, "this is why I was so far in denial. My brain was just protecting me from possible tragedy."

"No, Kuroo," Oikawa corrected with a sigh, "this is just you further proving what an idiot you are."

"See, if this was a romantic comedy, this is where I would say, 'oh, I'll just make _him_ fall in love with _me_ ,' but," Kuroo started flailing his hands, "that would never work on Kenma! Never! He could literally be heels over head in love with me and he would _never_ say anything."

Oikawa raised an eyebrow, "Heels over head?"

Kuroo shrugged, "That makes more sense, doesn't it?"

Oikawa sighed, pulling at his arm to get them walking again, "In any case, what you just said makes it all the more imperative that _you_ tell _him_."

Kuroo groaned, head tipping back on his neck as his feet blindly moved him forward.

"Just do it."

"Oikawa you know it's not that simple," Kuroo whined.

"Yes, I do know."

Kuroo opened his eyes to shoot him a quick glance, "Then why are you pressuring me!?"

"Because it's literally the only solution!" Oikawa barked at him. Kuroo's lips pulled down. There was a moment of silence, and then Oikawa spoke again, "Fine. Don't tell him. Just lay one on him. Kiss him real good. See what happens. If he doesn't like it you can just pass it off on you being a pervert."

Kuroo felt his face growing warm. He straightened his back, " _Oh_."

"What?"

"That made my heart all jumpy. Shit, that might make me even more nervous."

Oikawa shook his head, "Oh my God. Kuroo, you were your calm and cool self literally twenty-four hours ago. Where's the Kuroo that hit on me so long ago? The suave and confident Kuroo?"

"The Kuroo you met just wanted to get laid," Kuroo explained. "Sex is easy, love is hard."

Oikawa exhaled heavily, "I can't argue there."

"What am I gonna do Oikawa?"

"Die old and alone, probably."

Kuroo was groaning again.

"Okay fine," Oikawa said, "if you're not brave enough to tell him or make a move physically, then ask him on a date."

Kuroo turned his head to more fully regard Oikawa, "A date?"

"Yeah," Oikawa supplied easily. "A date. Start off normally, and then slowly push the current boundaries of your relationship and see how he reacts."

Kuroo was blinking at the side of Oikawa's face in the limited light. "What do you mean--"

"Oh!" Oikawa exclaimed, staring excitedly up in the sky, "Look, you can see Little Bear!" He leaned against Kuroo's shoulder, pointing into the sky with his right hand.

Kuroo's eyes followed the tip of Oikawa's finger, but his eyes got lost in the sea of stars, "I don't--"

"Look Kuroo," Oikawa said almost gently, tilting his head closer, "see that bright star there?"

"Yeah," Kuroo answered, eyes latching onto the star that shone brightest.

"That's the north star," he informed him, eyes big. Oikawa had always been pretty cute when he was talking about space. "That's the tip of his tail." Oikawa's left hand bumped against Kuroo's, his fingers moving to slide against his palm. "You follow the stars down from it like this," he continued, pointer finger moving downward, "down the tail." Oikawa's fingers slid between Kuroo's, intertwining before lightly squeezing against the back of his hand, "And those four stars there, those make up his body."

"Oh," Kuroo said, focusing his vision. Like this it looked so obvious, "I see it."

Oikawa grinned. They stood there for a moment, the buzz of insects humming in the silence.

"Oikawa."

"Hm?"

"Why are you holding my hand?"

Oikawa shot him a devious smirk, bringing their clasped hands up between their faces, "Push the current boundaries of your relationship, Kuroo."

" _Oh_ ," Kuroo responded with some awe, "That was pretty smooth."

"I know."

Kuroo stared fondly at his face, "I'm kind of impressed. Too bad you're not my type."

Oikawa dropped Kuroo's hand and flipped his hair, "You don't have a type, you have a Kenma."

Kuroo shrugged, "That may be true, but you're still way too big. Limbs everywhere. You were impossible to spoon."

Oikawa's mouth dropped open, aghast, "Don't call me unlovable just because I'm tall!"

"I didn't call you unlovable," Kuroo responded logically. "I called you unspoonable."

Oikawa crossed his arms over his chest with a pout, "Whatever. One day I'll find a man who can appreciate spooning my tall, model-esque figure."

Kuroo chuckled to himself as they started walking again, "I believe you."

"Try something simple like that first," Oikawa advised. "It's almost like treating it like a new relationship. You're just working off of what signals Kenma gives you."

"I guess," Kuroo said, eyes moving along the sidewalk. "Except I was never nervous with new people."

"You're so cute."

"Shut up Oikawa."

When Kuroo got home, Kenma was sitting on the floor of the living room doing homework.

"I'm home," Kuroo said, slipping off his shoes.

"Welcome back," Kenma muttered. When he glanced up Kuroo paused mid-step. _Oh. Hairclips again_. Kenma was staring at him, "Is something--"

"No no," Kuroo said, shaking his head. He walked into the living room and set the controller on the table, "Got this from Yaku's."

"Thank you."

"No problem." Kuroo was staring down at Kenma for a strange moment before he sat on the couch. He watched his pen move over paper for a bit, worked words around his tongue and sifted them over and over again through his mind before continuing, "Hey, do you have plans tomorrow night?"

"Not really," Kenma answered.

Kuroo shifted his eyes off to the side. "Do you uh," he swallowed, "want to do something?"

Kenma's hand stopped. Kuroo might have started holding his breath. Kenma raised his eyes to Kuroo, expression blank but gaze obviously considering. "Sure," he answered, not a single note of difference to his voice. But what was with those eyes? They were so heavily anchored on Kuroo's face that Kuroo felt himself start to sweat. He was sweating a lot lately.

"Okay," Kuroo said, hoping he didn't sound as strangled as he felt, "good."

Kenma kept staring at him. Finally, after an awkwardly tense moment, Kenma tilted his body slightly forward, "What do you want to do?" he asked, voice leading like he might have been speaking to an idiot.

"Oh!" Kuroo laughed at himself, "I, well, uh--" _Really? This was the part you didn't think through?_ Kuroo pinched his eyes closed as he grinned to cover his nervousness. What did kids do these days anyway? Maybe he could stick with something very simple, very basic, "A, maybe a movie to start?"

"Okay," Kenma offered easily, turning his eyes back to his homework.

"And then maybe we could grab a bite to eat?"

Kenma's head didn't move, but his gaze slid to the side, "Okay..."

  _Dessert? I kiss you on the face?_ "Is that okay?" Kuroo asked, shoving his stray thoughts aside. "You're kind of... making a face..."

Kenma's eyes narrowed slightly, "I don't think I'm making a face. But," he lightly shook his head, "that's a pretty standard night for us. I'm just wondering why you went out of your way to ask in advanced."

"Oh..." Kuroo responded, eyes skidding to the side. "I guess because it's... gentlemanly?"

This time Kenma actually put his pen down to turn and stare at him.

"So is that too boring, then?" Kuroo sputtered, using his words as a diversion from Kenma's heavy gaze. "Do you want to do something else?"

Kenma's voice was low and even, "No, I like our nights together just fine."

Kuroo felt his face attempting to go red.

Kenma's eyes grazed over his textbook, "Is Tooru coming?"

Kuroo blinked in surprise before clearing his throat, "Uhm, no. I thought it would be nice if it was just... you and me..."

Kenma's entire body stilled. When his gaze reached Kuroo's face he looked a little concerned, "Did something happen with Tooru?"

"What? No!" Kuroo said, waving his hands in front of him, "He went with me to Yaku's. We were just together. It's fine."

Kenma's eyes narrowed.

"I'm serious!" _We held hands and everything._

"Okay," Kenma said, shifting his body to face the table more squarely.

Kuroo sighed. Was it just him, or was he really bad at this?

"Okay, well then, tomorrow I guess--"

"I'm trying to finish this," Kenma reminded him simply.

"Of course," Kuroo said, shooting up from his seat on the couch. His hand twitched to flick at Kenma's hair but his fingers stalled, hesitating above the strands. Kuroo withdrew his hand and walked down the hallway. He fell face first onto his bed and groaned.

#

"Are you going out with Kenma looking like that?"

Kuroo's eyes slid over to Oikawa, "You're a dick."

"You look awful," Oikawa countered.

Kuroo rubbed at his eyes, "I couldn't get to sleep last night."

Oikawa blinked, "I had trouble too. I had to get myself off before I could finally get to sleep."

Kuroo held up his pointer finger, "I tried that, actually." His mouth fell into a straight line, "It didn't help."

Oikawa was biting at his lip.

"What?"

"Are you really that nervous about your date?" he queried with a sideways glance.

"Don't say it out loud Oikawa, it makes me seem even more pathetic."

Oikawa nodded, "Cute and pathetic. Like a puppy begging for food."

Kuroo shoved him off the sidewalk.

"Ahg!"

"I'm gonna try the thing," Kuroo said, eyes facing forward.

Oikawa took a few quick steps off the grass and back next to Kuroo, "The thing?"

"The hand thing."

Oikawa motioned forward with his hands, "Go forth dear apprentice."

Kuroo pinched his temples and ran his hands all over his face, "Oikawa, I've never loved and hated you so much in my entire life."

Oikawa's chin tilted up. He was beaming, "Thank you."

There was a distinctive pause as they walked toward one of the open areas they usually use to eat lunch. Kuroo was squinting in the sunlight as he thought. "You ever start out a sexual fantasy by imagining feeding someone curry with your hands?"

Oikawa stopped walking.

Kuroo turned around to see Oikawa staring at him. "What?" Kuroo asked, "Is that a no?"

Oikawa held up his hands like he could no longer make words.

"I'm pretty sure some people eat curry with their hands," Kuroo supplied.

Oikawa shook his head, "That's not the point."

"Is it not?"

Oikawa rubbed his eye, "You're a lost cause."

"Yeah," Kuroo said with a sigh, "I think so too."

#

"How's your group project going?" Kuroo asked, eyes on the top of Kenma's head.

Kenma was staring in front of him for once, "As badly as you would imagine a group project would go."

"Fair enough."

The evening was pretty nice, but Kuroo had brought a jacket in case it was colder once they were out of the movie. Kenma got cold pretty easily, but he was always too stubborn or lazy to bring a jacket with him. Kuroo hadn't decided which it was yet.

Once inside Kuroo paid for both of the tickets, handing Kenma's his without looking at him. He knew he should treat this like any other day, but how could he? How could he when he's covertly trying to plot ways to feel out whether or not Kenma would be open to anything beyond friends?

When they sat down it got even worse. Kenma was pulling pieces of popcorn into his mouth, eyes forward and focused. Kuroo was attempting to emulate that despite being awkwardly aware of their limbs: should I casually touch his arm? If our legs touch should I pull mine away? Should I try and hold his hand _in here_?

"This is going to be a disaster," Kuroo mumbled to himself.

"What?" Kenma asked, chin tilting up toward him.

"Oh, nothing," Kuroo said, flashing him an easy grin.

Ah, what the hell. This was too tiring.

Kuroo slumped super low in his seat, shoulder pressing in hard against Kenma's as he peered just over the seat in front of him. Kenma's eyes slid over to him, "What are you doing?"

Kuroo shrugged, the motion jostling Kenma, "I just wanted to see what it's like to be a tiny person in a movie theater."

Kenma stared at him, expression blank, "What a coincidence. This is perfect for my research into what idiots do in movie theaters, thank you."

When Kenma moved to grab a handful of popcorn Kuroo dove his hand in first. Kenma nonchalantly smacked it out of the bucket. Kuroo grabbed a piece and shoved it against Kenma's lips.

Kenma popped it into his mouth with a deadpan stare, "When attempts at physical dominance fail, the movie idiot will begin feeding popcorn to his intellectual superior."

Kuroo frowned. He shoved a piece of popcorn down Kenma's shirt.

Kenma tilted his head, then flicked a piece of popcorn off the top of the bucket and shot Kuroo directly in the forehead with it. "Ten points," he narrated. "Be careful, if it gets in your hair you may never find it."

Kuroo was chuckling in spite of himself, "You're a cheeky little shit today."

Kenma almost looked pleased with himself, "I'm just glad you're not acting weird."

Kuroo blinked, "Acting..."

Kenma made steady eye contact with him, "Are you sure nothing happened with Tooru?"

Kuroo's eyes moved downward. He nudged at Kenma's foot with his own, "Yeah, I'm sure."

Kenma's eyes were scanning his face. Kuroo knew the look. He was double checking for lies. They weren't something he ever found. "Okay," he said, eyes regarding the screen once more. Kuroo moved to sit up, "You shouldn't do that," Kenma chided quietly as the previews began.

Kuroo furrowed his brow at him, "What?"

"You shouldn't sit up. You're already tall. Then you have that unnecessary hair height. You're troublesome for the people behind you."

"Did you just say my natural state is troublesome?"

Kenma's eyes slid to the side, "Am I wrong?"

Kuroo was pretty sure the frown he was forcing onto his lips didn't reach his eyes, "Fine, I'll spend my time down here like you mini humans." There was a moment of nothing but the noise of the preview and then Kuroo mumbled, "How the fuck do you people see anything down here?"

Kenma lightly tossed a piece of popcorn at him without moving his gaze.

Kuroo flinched, then patted around his head and his hair. "Kenma," he whispered. Kenma's eyes slid to the side and Kuroo blinked at him with big eyes as he touched at his hair and said, "I lost it."

Kuroo was then filled with pride, because Kenma had to physically turn his head in the opposite direction to hide his chuckle.

#

"Oh," Kenma said, lightly resting his hand on his stomach, "I think the popcorn upset my stomach."

Kuroo threw him a sideways glance, "I told you to eat beforehand. Eating popcorn on an empty stomach is a bad idea." Kenma clicked his tongue and Kuroo smiled at him, "Let's just get something light to eat."

There was a cafe on the edge of campus that was open late. Kenma pulled his arms around himself as they sat down with their order and Kuroo shook his head, handing him the jacket he still had slung over his arm.

"And the movie idiot still has to take care of you," he prodded as Kenma slipped his small arms into the sleeves. Kenma afforded him a quick glare before he picked up his sandwich and nibbled at it. Kuroo tried to keep the admiration off his face as he watched Kenma eat, his own jacket sleeves billowing around Kenma's arms and draping too-large over his slim shoulders. The collar was flipped up around his neck and strands of blonde slipped around it and tickled at his neck.

"How are you and Tsukishima?" Kenma asked, not moving his eyes from his sandwich.

Kuroo's heart stuttered. "Oh," he said, leaning back in his seat and ruffling the back of his hair, "Him and I are the same as ever I guess."

Kenma blinked, wiping at his mouth with a napkin, "What a roundabout way of avoiding the word 'we'."

Kuroo's eyes fell against the table.

"Tooru's right, you've haven't been with anyone else in a long time." Kenma finally raised his eyes to Kuroo, "Is it going well? Do you have feelings for him?"

Kuroo cranked his neck back and forth, popping it as he thought, "It's kind of shitty." Kenma straightened his back, eyes narrowing to focus on Kuroo's face. "There's nothing wrong with him," Kuroo went on, hand bobbing in front of him as he spoke, "and we get along just fine. I just..." his eyes slid over the table, over Kenma's food, hovered around a napkin, "don't feel anything."

Kenma looked back down at his plate, "That's unfortunate."

Kuroo shrugged. "I never have, you know," he added rather lowly. "Felt anything for anyone I've dated over the years."

Kenma's motions and expression didn't falter, "You must not have found the right one yet."

Kuroo stared at his face across the table. His mouth was opening to speak. Habitual honesty working its way across his tongue; _No, I found the one._ But Kuroo's heart was heavy in his chest, and a tremor slid up his spine before the syllables could drop. He closed his mouth and watched Kenma in silence.

"You can have these," Kenma said, sliding a small cup of fruit across the table.

Kuroo redirected his attention to the food, clearing the nervousness out of his throat, "You like grapes."

Kenma's eyebrows knitted together slightly, "Grapes are a pain."

Kuroo coughed a laugh, popping a strawberry into his mouth before moving to grab a grape, "I'll peel it for you." Kenma wiped off his hands after finishing his half sandwich, and the night was sprinkled with far off sounds of life. "Hey," Kuroo started as his fingertips pulled the skin from around the tiny fruit, "do you believe in soulmates?"

Kenma pulled out his phone and clicked through his messages, "I try not to."

Kuroo paused to look up at him. "Try not to?" he repeated in confusion.

"It's good in theory, I guess," Kenma said, fingers moving quickly over keys. "But it seems kind of cruel." Kuroo watched him silently as he spoke. "Because if there's only one," Kenma explained, hands finally stilling as his eyes slid to the side, wrapped up in thought, "they would be really easy to miss."

Kuroo looked down at his hands before silently extending one forward, peeled grape pinched between his fingers. Kenma leaned forward and took it directly with his mouth, lips sliding over Kuroo's skin before he leaned back in his seat. Kuroo hoped Kenma wasn't expecting a verbal response, because his mind went entirely blank in that instant.

"Lately though I wo--," Kenma paused, pinched his lips a bit before continuing, "I feel like... maybe..." His voice trailed off, dropping into a breathy whisper.

"Maybe what?" Kuroo finally asked, voice a little raspy.

Kenma shook his head, "Nothing."

Kuroo narrowed his eyes, voice irritated, "We're in the middle of talking about soulmates, you don't get to just say, 'nothing'."

Kenma gave a small sigh, "It doesn't matter. It will always be speculation anyway."

Kuroo slid the skin of another grape away from the fruit, "That doesn't keep people from believing." He handed Kenma the fruit and Kenma took it into his mouth just like before, tiny pink lips moving soft against his fingers. "Jesus Christ," Kuroo sighed.

Kenma blinked at him, "What?"

"Nothing," Kuroo responded with a shake of his head. He grabbed another strawberry and bit off the tip, licking the juice from his lips. "Nothing at all. Wanna head back?"

"Sure."

Kuroo had one chance here. Grab his hand, intertwine fingers, check for a reaction. It wasn't that difficult, it wasn't that forceful, and yet...

Kuroo could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

For the first time in his life Kuroo found himself praying to the gods that he could harness Oikawa's power just this once. He also prayed that Oikawa never found out he prayed for such a thing.

"Do you feel better now?" Kuroo asked, glancing down at Kenma as they walked.

Kenma nodded once with a small, "Mm." He tilted his head to make eye contact with Kuroo, "The jacket helped too."

Kuroo cleared his throat, "That's good." He waited for a moment, mind desperately grasping for something, _anything_ to fill the silence that was going to drive him insane with the rhythm of his heart acting as a backdrop for every step against the concrete. "You know, I meant to apologize to you," Kuroo finally said, voice thankfully clinging to its normal lilt and cadence.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, before we moved in together I should have been more honest with you," Kuroo said, and his fingers were twitching now, his arm brushing against Kenma's with every stride. Kenma's gaze slid the corner of his eyes to give Kuroo a skeptical glance. "Because honestly," Kuroo said, staring in front of him, "I have no idea how to do laundry." 

Kenma sighed, shoulders falling heavily with the breath, "As if I didn't know that after all these years."

Kuroo beamed, "Well," he said, grabbing Kenma's hand and threading their fingers together, "I thought I should come clean since you're my roommate now."

Kenma shook his head, "You mean since the hamper is full and you know I'm going to have to wash your clothes soon."

Kuroo's grinned widened and he lightly squeezed Kenma's hand, "Well, yeah."

Kenma didn't react at all. He didn't flinch. He didn't look down or blink or do _anything_. He simply held his hand in place, fingers curled around Kuroo's as if this was an everyday thing.

_Was that good or bad?_

"I apologize in advance for all the questionable splotches on my clothing," Kuroo added.

Kenma slowly closed his eyes for a moment, "You're so gross."

"I'm a young man."

Kenma rolled his eyes, "At least use a white sock or something so it's less noticeable."

Kuroo flinched backward, thankful for the conversation so he could ignore the fact that his palm was beginning to sweat in Kenma's grasp, "A sock? I don't want to get a dirty sock anywhere near my junk."

Kenma's lip hooked up at he regarded Kuroo with a small amount of disgust, "Is it really that big of a deal?"

Kuroo raised his eyebrows, "Have you _seen_ my socks after I get back from the gym?"

"No," Kenma said, eyes moving to face forward. His voice dropped and his face pinched in, "But I've smelled them." There it was. The scrunchy face.

Kuroo grinned down at him, "Then you should understand."

Kenma made an exasperated noise in the back of his throat.

He was holding his hand. He was walking and holding hands with Kenma. Kuroo had to bite his lips closed to keep from grinning like a total idiot.

"Oh," Kenma said, feet slowing.

Kuroo blinked in front of them and saw a calico cat walking onto the sidewalk. She made eye contact with them and mewled.

"It's Yomi," Kenma said, unlacing their fingers as he crouched down so he could pet her.

"Yomi?" Kuroo asked, mirroring the motion. The cat rubbed her face against Kenma's hand, then turned and slid along Kuroo's knees.

"I always see her around the library," Kenma explained simply. "That's just what I call her."

She was purring, rubbing her cheeks along Kuroo's legs and leaning in against Kenma's palm. "She's friendly," Kuroo commented.

Kenma furrowed his brows, "She didn't like me at first. I had to work to get her to come near me."

Kuroo smiled, "Now you know what it feels like to try and be friends with you."

Kenma's mouth pulled down in reaction to Kuroo's broad grin. His eyes returned to Yomi, her back arching against his hand.

Kuroo was back to staring at Kenma. Crouched on the sidewalk like this, sitting on their heels, his face was dangerously close. Kuroo tilted his head. How could his face be even more perfect up close? Soft lips, the dainty sweep of his nose, gold eyes that somehow warmed over the moonlight and flickered under the steady blink of eyelashes.

When Kenma glanced up his gaze caught against Kuroo's, eyes stalling on his face. His expression didn't change, but he was searching. Looking over every line of Kuroo's face to try and read him.

Yomi walked away, but Kenma's eyes didn't shift. The anchor of his gaze on Kuroo's face made Kuroo's throat feel like it was closing. "Hey, Kenma," Kuroo started, and his fingers slipped back into the palm Kenma had resting on his own knee. "Have you..."

_Ever thought about us? Ever imagined us as more than friends? Ever been in..._

Kenma blinked, a strand of his hair slipping from behind his ear and falling in front of his face. Kuroo reached forward with his other hand and tucked it back where it belonged, but then his hand stayed there, fingertips lightly threaded into Kenma's soft locks.

Kuroo's heart was a mess in his chest, and he could feel heat all over his face and crawling down his neck like an itch, like a burn. And Kenma was staring back at him with no expression; his face entirely void of emotion or reaction as if space was something that had never existed for them.

Had it always been this way? Had they always been able to get this close? It couldn't be, it's impossible. There's no way Kuroo could have been this close, held him in such proximity, and not known instantly that he was in love with him.

Kuroo's lips parted without sound.

Kenma's eyes slipped down from Kuroo's gaze, and he leaned in toward him, hand moving up to Kuroo's cheek. And Kuroo was strangled, dying, frozen on the sidewalk. And then Kenma's delicate fingers touched at his cheekbone and Kuroo felt his heart pounding in his throat, blocking his air. A shock of heat fissured out from Kenma's touch, but then Kenma pulled away and held up a single extended finger.

"An eyelash," he said softly, the shallow curve of it sitting atop his finger. He centered it in front of Kuroo's mouth. "Make a wish."

Kuroo swallowed his heartbeat and took a steadying inhale before he blew the eyelash off Kenma's finger. It was the first time he had ever had a wish. It was easy when it was right in front of him.

A peal of high pitched static rang in Kuroo's ears. Second thought. Hesitation. It would destroy him every time.

Kenma blinked and tilted his head, suddenly looking concerned. "Kuroo?" he asked, "Are you cold?"

Kuroo's throat was dry, closing. "What?" he responded weakly.

Kenma's hand twitched around Kuroo's fingers, "You're shaking."

His entire arm was trembling, aching at his shoulder. His breath was shallow and uneven. Kuroo felt like his vision was going tunneled. He worked to repress the full body tremors he felt attempting to move up his spine. "No," he answered, "I'm fine."

Kenma didn't look convinced, "I can give you back your jacket..."

"No," Kuroo answered shortly, standing abruptly and yanking Kenma's arm up with him. "It's really okay. Just a tiny bit chilly. We're almost home anyway."

"Okay," Kenma said with uncertainty in his voice as his moved to try and keep pace with Kuroo's long strides.

Kuroo felt like he was barely controlling his breathing. He couldn't focus on anything besides his own terror. His heart was wild and unruly, beating far too fast and too hard in his chest.

When they got home Kuroo could  have collapsed in the doorway but he managed to stay standing, leaning one arm against the wall as he slipped off his shoes. He felt claustrophobic, boxed in, and he needed to get away from everything.

"I'll make you some tea," Kenma said, giving Kuroo a once over, "and you should take a warm bath. You'll feel better."

"Yeah, thank you," Kuroo said without looking at him, moving to walk down the hallway. He swung into his room and closed the door quickly, pressing his back against it and sliding down to the floor.

Breathe, _breathe_. Nothing happened-- _even though it should have_ \-- and everything is fine-- _even though you're completely spineless_.

Kuroo pressed his forehead against his knees. He stayed curled there for an immeasurable moment, didn't look up or open his eyes until he felt his heart start to move in a balanced, strident rhythm. He withdrew his phone from his pocket and waited as it rang on the other end.

"Oh!" Oikawa's voice answered with far too much enthusiasm. "I've been waiting to know how it went!"

"I've learned a few things today," Kuroo said succinctly into the phone. "One: I am a coward."

"Only when it comes to the love of your life; it's okay."

"Two," Kuroo went on without comment, "I think I just found out what a panic attack feels like."

" _What?_ " Oikawa almost screeched, voice going high with concern, " _Are you okay?_ "

"I'm fine," Kuroo brushed it aside. "And three..." he sighed, shoulders sagging, "There's no way around it. I'm going to have to say it boldly, blatantly, directly to his face."

There was a small exhale on the other end, "Sorry buddy."

"It's fine," Kuroo said, knocking the back of his head against his door, "It's fine."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://suggestivescribe.tumblr.com/


	3. Finding Whipped Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I am a mess of hormones and emotions."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may or may not notice that the chapter count when from 5 to 4. I'm going to be honest, I really have no idea which it is. Every time I think I have this fic under control I lose my noodle and create a catastrophe for myself. I'm apparently not going to know until it's finished, so I'm flying by the seat of my panties, or something.

Kenma was clicking at his phone.

He was waiting on the patio of a cafe, his book bag leaning against the leg of his chair. The sun was out. It was glaring against his screen.

Kenma squinted, blinking as hair slid down around his face. That's why he didn't see anyone approach until they were in front of him, leaning down against his table and dipping their head to stare at him.

"Oh, so I was right."

Kenma flinched, eyes flickering up and immediately back down again, his face prickling at the sudden proximity of a stranger. Kenma hadn't gotten much before his gaze had retreated; just the too-close view of brown eyes and dark strands of hair, maybe the pull of a smile at the other's lips.

"You see, my friend was telling me I was insane."

 _Perhaps you are, if you think I care._ Kenma pinched his lips shut. He was staring down at his phone, clicking through the menus just to avoid eye contact. His shoulders curled in as he lightly leaned back, the air in front of him suddenly too warm and stagnate for his liking. The guy was close, staring with far too much interest at Kenma's face. He probably went to the university judging by how old he looked and what he was wearing, and his dark locks were swishing across his forehead.

"You see," he went on, obviously unperturbed by being ignored, "I told him that your eyes were definitely _gold_."

Kenma glanced up for a split second and the stranger smiled at him, nice and bright and exceptionally broad, the happiness pulling his cheeks up into his eyes.

"Ah," Kenma responded with a hum, eyes catching at that smile for a moment. It made him distinctly uncomfortable.

The man's eyes opened slowly again, his head tipping to the side, "They're beautiful."

Kenma's fingers stalled over his keypad. His gaze skidded around. He didn't know what to say, but he knew that the weight of the other's stare felt like lead on his shoulders and a firm grip on his spine.

The guy moved down to lean on his elbows instead of his hands, dropping low to peer under Kenma's hair and removing the extra space Kenma had put between them, "I've never seen eyes like that," he commented airily.

"Is that so?" Kenma asked, shoulder tilting away from him. Kenma stared into another set of gold eyes every day.

His lips split, flashing that smile again, "Are you shy? I'm sorry if I'm making you nervous."

 _No you're not_. Kenma's feet shuffled against the pavement under his table.

"I'm Suzuki Deishuu." His eyes were floating all over Kenma's face, "You can call me Shu-chan, if you'd like."

Kenma's eyes hit his gaze for a short moment before falling back down to his phone, "I won't be doing that."

Suzuki's eye twitched and Kenma's eyes froze open a little wider than usual, both of them surprised at the words. Kenma tilted his head again, inwardly cursing himself for the slip of his tongue.

Suzuki's tongue clicked against the back of his teeth, "That's fine, it's a little personal I guess." _That's not why, obviously._ "Don't you have a name?"

Discomfort rose up Kenma's spine and through his throat. His face was flushed with heat. Frustration, embarrassment. How could he get this man's eyes off his face? "Kozume," Kenma answered. What else could he do, "Kozume Kenma."

He smiled, "Pretty name."

Kenma repressed his eye roll.

"Are you waiting for someone?" Suzuki followed up, voice smooth and lilting. Kenma had a feeling Tooru would scoff at the display.

Kenma's lips parted. He was silent for a moment, his mind slow to connect thoughts to words when he was nervous. But then he nodded with a small hum, "Mm. I am."

The other's eyelashes fluttered over his eyes, "A boyfriend?"

Kenma heard the voice in the back of his head, _Lie_. He was looking away, just opening his mouth when there was a shadow and then weight against his table, and Kuroo's large form was beside him, leaning against the table on both elbows and tipping his head playfully as his lips blew air over Suzuki's face, "Indeed." His voice was smooth as he smiled that cocky crooked smile, his lips slicing into the bite of a taunting grin.

Suzuki blinked in response, suddenly stunned. "Ah, um, I'm--" Kenma wondered if he was catching proper sight of those gold eyes.

"A shamefully bad flirt?" Kuroo supplied, still smiling.

Suzuki swallowed and stood, back straightening. "Well he didn't say anything, so--" he took a step back and his shoulders bounced against resistance. He flinched, glancing behind him, only to have to tilt his chin upward to get a view of Tooru's face.

"Aw Kuroo, don't _bully_ him," Tooru said, eyes shadowed like they sometimes get when he's playing volleyball or feeling especially... _Tooru_.  

Kenma forgot sometimes. He knew Kuroo and Tooru. He knew how Tooru liked to wear decade old sweatpants with holes in them while watching Really Super True Ghost Stories, and how Kuroo liked to read mystery novels with his legs pulled against his chest and his eyes peering over his knees. They both licked the bowls of their ice cream and always got syrup on their noses, and they had vicious battles over games of Clue. Kenma knew these things, saw these men through his own lens daily. So he forgot sometimes, had to readjust his vision to see what everyone else saw: six foot plus of broad shouldered athleticism sewn with snark and intimidation.

When Kenma looked at Suzuki's face, he could tell that's what he was seeing.

"Oh, _oh_ ," Suzuki said, and he was casting an irritated glance down at Kenma now, despite the shiver in his fingertips, " _Two_ boyfriends, then."

Kenma blinked at him, blank faced, but Kuroo stood and tilted his head back in front of Suzuki to block his view, "You've seen him." Kuroo smirked, "He could have twelve, if he wanted." Kenma turned his head away from them to hide the red flaring over his cheekbones.

Suzuki's lip hooked up, and he took a wobbly step to the side to un-sandwich himself from the heat of two college athletes. "My apologies, then."

Tooru's hair bounced as his head tipped heavily to the side, his smile too kind, " _Oh_?" His voice dropped and his eyes darkened, "I think I like this version better. Head down, knowing your place."

Tooru's kind smile had a tendency to unleash venom.

Kuroo's grin crawled higher up one side of his face.

Suzuki made a noise, something that was probably supposed to sound gruff but came out more strangled, and dipped his head as he quickly put distance between them.

Kenma released a heavy sigh.

Kuroo bent over at the hips, blinking around Kenma's face, "You alright?"

Kenma adjusted in his seat, eyes meeting Kuroo's focused gold gaze for a moment, "Yes. Thank you. For intervening."

Kuroo's lips parted into a soft smile, his voice low, "I'll always protect you, kitten," and then he flicked a strand of Kenma's hair and stood, turning to face Tooru.

_Kit--_

Kenma was blinking down at the table, his skin flushing hot all over again.

" _Aaah_ ," Tooru whined, his voice returning to normal as his head fell back on his shoulders, "I kinda want a latte."

Kuroo narrowed his eyes, "We're literally at a cafe."

Oikawa made a noise in the back of his throat. The "broke college kid" noise, maybe.

Kuroo slapped him on the shoulder, "Wait here a sec," he directed, clearing his throat and moving to walk into the cafe.

Kenma stood, grabbing up his book bag and taking a few small strides to stand next to Tooru.

Tooru blinked down at him, eyes flashing bright in the sun, "How's Kenma today?" he asked sweetly.

Kenma pulled his bag over his shoulders, "Fine, I guess."

"Too cute," Tooru corrected, "going out and getting hit on by college boys."

Kenma's eyes slid to the side, "We're all college boys..."

"Oh," Tooru began as if he'd forgotten, "How was the movie?" He blinked down at Kenma expectantly.

Kenma's brow furrowed for a small moment, "The mo--"

Oh. He stared at Tooru. Kuroo had been...

"Hey, Tooru," Kenma started, unsure of whether or not he wanted his eyes on the concrete or on Tooru's face.

Tooru tilted his body more toward Kenma, regarding him with all his attention.

Kenma's feet shuffled, "Is there something..." Kenma started twisting at his fingers. Would Tooru even tell him if something was wrong? "Never mind," Kenma mumbled.

Tooru frowned, deep enough to pull the light out of his eyes, "Kenma, don't do that. You should know by now it's useless to try and evade me."

A small click moved over Kenma's teeth as he sighed what felt like reluctant defeat.

Tooru lightly nudged at his shoulder with his arm, hand still buried in his pocket, "What's wrong?"

Kenma pursed his lips for a moment before glancing inside. Kuroo was smiling across the counter at a barista. She was giggling, face flushed. Kenma turned his attention back to Tooru, "Is there... something going on with Kuroo?"

Kenma had a hard time describing the expression that took Tooru's features. It's as if his face was hardening and his eyes were softening at the same time. He kept his gaze on Kenma's face, but his chin tilted slightly, like he was willfully keeping his attention on Kenma. "What do you mean?" he asked tentatively.

Kenma looked at the ground, "Well, at the movie he seemed fine. But lately he just seems..." Tooru was staring down at him, eyes heavy on Kenma's face. Kenma looked back up at him, lips pulled down low with something that felt like worry and possibly something else, "Distant? Like maybe he's trying to keep something from me."

Tooru let out a breath that sounded like it had been mounting in his lungs for a long time, eyes squeezing shut as he ruffled the back of his hair, "Well no, Kenma, I don't know of anything. Maybe he's stressed about sch--"

"Kuroo doesn't get stressed," Kenma countered before Tooru could finish the statement. "And the rare times he has, he didn't... _hide_ it from me."

Tooru's lips parted as he blinked at Kenma, but no words came out.

"At first I thought maybe you two were fighting or something, but even then I was sure both of you would have been open about it..."

Tooru swallowed, and when he put on a small smile it felt a little desperate, and maybe a tad apologetic, "You two really just need to talk to each other."

Kenma's eyes flickered upward, "So he is hiding something from me."

Tooru's eyes grew wide, "What!? No, I didn't say--"

Kenma looked at the ground again, "I knew it..."

Tooru's voice was high and thin, scrambling, "Kenma, that's not what I meant, I was just saying maybe if you had open commu--"

Kenma's throat felt tighter than usual. "Kuroo's never hidden anything from me before," Kenma said softly, and Tooru's sentence broke off abruptly. Kenma brought his face back up to look into Tooru's eyes, which had gone wide with concern. Kenma blinked slowly as he thought about the ache in his chest, "It... hurts my feelings."

Tooru's mouth dropped open, and his eyes were shining and harassed. Kenma looked away from him. They were both lying to him.

Why?

"Here you broke idiot," came Kuroo's voice suddenly, shoving a cup against Tooru's chest. Kenma glanced away from the both of them.

" _Aah!_ " Tooru coughed a laugh, face fumbling around to try and recreate his normal smile, "Kuroo was sweet to me for once!"

Kuroo's mouth dropped in offense. "What are you talking about?" he asked, bringing his hand to his chest, "I'm always this kind."

Tooru trapped the straw between his lips. "To Kenma," he muttered around it, slurping frozen latte into his mouth. His eyes flickered down to Kenma and back again.

With that Kuroo turned to glance down at Kenma, handing him a bag, "Those are for you."

Kenma almost jumped, then took the bag into his hands carefully as Kuroo kept his own frozen latte clutched in his grasp. Kuroo was sipping at his straw when Kenma opened the paper sack. There was a matching latte for him and--

"The mochi ice cream is for later. Since we ran out," Kuroo informed him.

Kenma turned to him with big eyes.

Kuroo's gaze flattened. "Later," he repeated.

Kenma reached in and unwrapped it, pulling a piece from the bag.

"Kenma--" Kuroo began to chide.

Kenma blinked up at him. He bit into it.

Kuroo sighed, but Kenma's lips were closing around the bite of rice cake and ice cream, his eyes falling shut as he repressed the hum attempting to move over his lips. "Thank you," he said when his eyes opened, and he felt his mouth warming into a slight upward tilt despite the catch that had been lodged in the middle of his throat.

Kuroo was staring at him, and he swallowed hard before nodding, "Yeah, no problem."

When they were walking Tooru was chatting on about something. He rambled himself into normalcy, nervous forced laughs becoming genuine within a block. Kenma was fine with that. As much as Tooru attempted to cover his emotions, he was often very bad at it. Kenma didn't need Kuroo questioning the sudden shift in attitude.

Kenma focused on his mochi, something that helped ease him into a lighter mood. Every now and then he saw Kuroo turn to glance down at him, watching him nibble at the small bites.

"Don't eat it all before we get home," Kuroo said, almost laughing, "you're like a mochi monster, I don't know what to do with you."

Kenma licked a smear of ice cream off his pointer finger, "Buy more mochi."

"Ken-chan makes a good point Kuroo," Tooru commented, moving to swipe a finger into Kuroo's whipped cream before being effectively slapped away.

"Stop with the 'Ken-chan' already," he chided as Tooru withdrew his hand with a definite pout.

"Kuroo why are you even drinking an iced latte? I thought you liked your coffee black..." he mumbled his complaint, dipping down to recapture his own straw.

Kuroo threw him a sideways glance, "I do like my coffee black. But when I go out and get a fancy drink I want all the trimmings. Mocha, chocolate drizzle, a little umbrella." Kuroo popped the top off his cup, "and especially whipped cream." His tongue dipped through the fluff and pulled a lumped cloud of it into his mouth.

Kenma watched the sweep of his tongue and the bob of his throat as he swallowed. Kuroo looked down at the drink with an almost ridiculous amount of fondness, then moved his gaze to respond to something Tooru said, lips slipping into a smirk. This felt normal.

The clarity of Kenma's vision focused on Kuroo's face. His teeth caught together as he huffed a laugh and his eyes squeezed shut. Then he was moving back to his drink, attempting to lick whipped cream from the cup without it falling off his tongue. He was doing a poor job of it. This felt like his Kuroo.

Kuroo's pupils were small in the sunlight, flaring the gold of his eyes bright and vibrant. It made it look like the catch of his gaze would electrify anything it touched.

He turned his eyes down to Kenma, blinking when he realized Kenma's gaze was already pointed in his direction. Kenma felt the shock of it at the base of his spine.

"Ah," and he grabbed the bag of mochi from Kenma's hands.

Kenma reached for it, hands opening and closing around nothing as Kuroo pulled it high and out of reach.

"Save some," he reprimanded playfully. He pulled the latte out of the bag and handed it to Kenma as a sort of compromise. Kenma took it into his palms and pouted down at it.  

"Aw just give him the damned ice cream," Tooru laughed.

"No Oikawa, that's how you spoil them."

Kenma examined the contents of the cup. "So much whipped cream," he commented softly.

Kuroo bent over so their eyes were level, "Do you not want it? I'll take it from you; more for me..." he hung his fingers over the top of the cup.

Kenma glared at him and tucked the cup against his chest.

"You can't just go around pillaging people's whipped cream, Kuroo," Tooru said from the side.

Kuroo straightened his back again, "What were you just doing!?" Tooru stuck out his tongue. Kuroo glanced back down at Kenma, "You should drink it before it starts to melt."

"I'll drink it when we're home," Kenma responded simply. He knew if he tried to drink it while walking he'd end up with whipped cream all over his face.

"Suit yourself," Kuroo responded vaguely, licking against the lid of his cup to get the last bit of chocolate drizzle. Kenma shook his head. He might have been fighting back a small smile.

-

When they got back they all flopped onto the couch. After Kuroo hid the mochi ice cream in the back of the freezer, that is.

Kuroo was still determined to conquer all of his chocolate syrup, and he settled next to Kenma with that goal in mind. Unfortunately his eyes caught sight of Kenma, and he would be damned if he wasn't instantly distracted.

Kenma was licking at his tower of whipped cream, delicately sliding his tongue through the fluffed white drizzled with chocolate. He did it with a lot of care, almost like he was planning how to most cleanly work his way through the airy puff of sugar. Kuroo was trying not to stare, trying not to burn his gaze on Kenma's mouth as he pulled his straw into his own. But there was a small pink tongue working, and tiny pink lips opening and closing and being licked, and Kenma was just so _focused_ that Kuroo's eyes remained in place for far longer than they should have. He was mid-sip when Kenma made a small noise, mouth pulling into a frown as a small glop of whipped cream dotted his nose.

Kuroo leaned over, bringing his face to hover just over Kenma's, lips parting in the slightest so he could softly kiss the cream off Kenma's nose.

Then his motion ground to a halt, mind finally realizing what he had been doing without thinking.

Kuroo's heart stalled in his chest and his eyes widened. Kenma blinked his gaze up at Kuroo, and that's all the time Kuroo allowed before he reached up with his hand and swiped the cream away with his thumb. He slid his tongue over his finger with a smirk. "More for me," he said before leaning back with a smile.

Oikawa was staring at the two of them, wide eyed and probably almost as much in shock as Kuroo was. Kuroo disguised the nervous flutter of queasiness rising in his throat with a cocky grin.

Kenma blinked at him once more before looking back down at his drink and pulling another bite of cream into his mouth with his tongue.

"But," Kuroo said, setting down his cup, "I should go get a couple napkins."

He rose from the couch and walked into the kitchen. He stood in front of the counter for a long moment, staring blankly at the surface with his generic smile still plastered on his face. A single laugh left his mouth. He thought he might be feeling a sort of giggling mania climbing his throat when Oikawa walked in the door.

"Dude," he greeted, eyes still big. "Are you okay?"

Kuroo turned to him with wide eyes, "Dude," he said, "no."

Then his eye twitched and he sunk down to his knees on the linoleum, fingers yanking at his hair and breath huffing from his chest.

"Calm down calm down," Oikawa said, instantly kneeling beside him and grappling at his shoulder.

"Oh my God what did I almost just do?" Kuroo asked him, staring unseeing at Oikawa's knee.

"Kiss the man you're in love with," Oikawa answered. "It's really not that strange."

"But it  _is_ ," Kuroo groaned.

"It's okay though," Oikawa consoled, rubbing circles on Kuroo's back, "it's fine now."

"I can't breathe," Kuroo wheezed.

"You _can_ breathe. You're breathing right now."

Kuroo looked up, "I need to get out of here." He moved to stand.

Oikawa yanked him back down, "No you don't, and that will only look more suspicious."

"Oikawa," Kuroo whisper yelled, "I literally can't stop thinking about kissing him. Every minute, every second, every time he looks at me.  _Do you understand what that's like?_ "

"No?" Oikawa answered honestly, "I've never been so face first in love with someone that I daydreamed about their mouth, but I can imagine it's pretty tough."

"No," Kuroo turned to face Oikawa more squarely. He grabbed Oikawa's shoulders and yanked him close so their noses were almost touching, "It's this, all the time," Kuroo explained. "Kenma and I lost the concept of personal space with each other sometime in high school. He looks at me," Kuroo leaned in ever so slightly and Oikawa's eyes were growing larger, "and he's  _close_. Apparently being like this," his eyes dropped to Oikawa's mouth and roamed around his face a bit before moving back to meet his gaze, "doesn't threaten to make Kenma's skin explode like it does mine."

"Kuroo--"

"Imagine it," Kuroo directed in a whisper. Oikawa swallowed hard and blinked over widened eyes that almost looked scared. "It's just like this," Kuroo repeated with a small nod as he stared into Oikawa's eyes, "except Kenma is cuter."

Oikawa flicked Kuroo in the ear. Kuroo flinched, pulling his hands away to rub at his ear. Oikawa sighed, "I understand as much as I'm able. But the only one who can change this is you."

"Change it, ruin it, burn my whole life to the ground."

Oikawa stared at him, and Kuroo was expecting a sarcastic remark but instead he received a serious stare and a low voice, "You need to talk to him," he explained lowly. "You're hur--"

There was a small noise, and they both turned their heads away from one another to look up and see Kenma framed in the doorway.

"This," Kuroo said lightly, dropping his hand back on Oikawa's shoulder, "is exactly what it looks like."

Kenma blinked at them, face entirely void of expression or emotion, "It looks like you're blocking my tea drawer."

They both stood, as if tugged at by a puppeteer, and parted to make way for Kenma.

"We still have a couple hours before Tooru and I have to go back on campus," Kenma said as he slid open a drawer. "Tooru, would you like a cup of tea?"

Oikawa's face lit into a bright smile, "Yes please!"

"I thought you were done for the day?" Kuroo asked with a tilt of his head.

Kenma started filling a pot with water. "Group work," he answered succinctly.

Kuroo frowned, "Oh. Okay."

"By the way," Kenma said, clicking at his stove. Kuroo blinked at him as he waited, and Kenma turned to shoot him a look bordering on devious, "I saw where you hid the mochi."

Kuroo shook his head, "Sometimes I forget what a little shit you are."

"You shouldn't. It's dangerous."

Oikawa was beaming from behind Kenma as Kuroo shook his head. _Yeah, that's for sure._

There was a ringing from the living room then. They all stared at each other, faces blank. Finally Oikawa blinked and grinned, "Oh, right, that's mine." He quickly scampered from the kitchen.

Kuroo was watching Kenma prepare the tea. He seemed overly focused on all the small gestures.

"Hey, Kenma." Kenma paused to look up at Kuroo. Kuroo shuffled in place a bit, eyes on the floor, "Did I... do the wrong thing?"

Kenma's back straightened a tad, "When?"

"Back there," Kuroo answered nervously. "With the guy. Should I have..." what were the right words? "Let you handle him how you wanted to?"

Kenma slowly dropped his arms by his sides. He glanced away, blinking. Kuroo could tell he was forming words, parsing together feelings and thoughts that he usually didn't bother expressing. Finally he spoke, "I don't think you understand how those things make me feel."

Kuroo felt his heart clench a little, but he allowed Kenma to go on without interruption.

"I've never been big," Kenma said in a quiet voice. "I've never had a physical presence. And when strangers speak to me I get nervous. It's difficult for me to speak, and I get flustered. Nothing comes out right." Kuroo watched as Kenma's hands moved to idly grasp at his cup, "But I've never needed that. Because I've had you."

Kuroo felt warm relief flood over his shoulders and down his spine, but his face was still soft, touched, by Kenma's words.

"So," Kenma said, glancing down at the counter, "what this conversation should be consisting of is me thanking you again. For... all the times. Not just that one."

Kuroo reached out and slid his fingers through Kenma's hair, pushing it behind his ear. "I'll always protect you," he whispered.

Kenma's eyes were on the floor, and for some reason they looked sad, "I hope so."

Kuroo couldn't quite place the feelings that shot through his heart at those words. But he lowered his hand, fingers shaking, and he thinks they were both probably relieved for Oikawa's bright smile and rambunctious reentrance into the kitchen.

#

After Oikawa and Kenma had gone, Kuroo found himself exceptionally listless. He read for a bit, pretended to study, foraged in a mostly empty fridge for food. Finally he flopped down on his bed and sighed into his pillow, shoulders sinking against the mattress.

He kicked his legs.

He rolled over.

He stared at the ceiling.

 _Kitten_.

He scrunched his face.

Kenma had been so close. He didn't understand how Kenma had kept his face so composed at that range. Kuroo didn't understand how _he_ had kept his face so composed at that range. It would have been so easy then, to lean forward and steal a kiss. Taste the pink pout of lips between his, inhale Kenma's breath as his own and hum soft against his mouth. He could have played it off as show if he needed to, "to help ward off that guy".

That's what he should have done.

Kuroo had no moves when it came to Kenma.

But dammit, now Kuroo's mind was stuck. His chest was warm and his veins were heaving blood through his limbs as he thought about Kenma's mouth. He wondered how Kenma kissed. Did he like using tongue? Would it be gross to him?

Kuroo let his head sink against his pillow as he imagined licking at Kenma's lower lip to tease his mouth open. He was already growing hard in his shorts, and he almost laughed out loud at himself. Kenma was such a hairpin trigger to him. He didn't even need to think about sex; he just needed to think about that mouth and those hands and that neck, what each would smell and taste like, and suddenly he was hard and his chest was heaving a sigh off his lips.

Well, this was happening then.

Kuroo slipped his hand down his shorts, hips jerking at his own touch. He pulled his hand around his length and shuddered, his mind already spinning off in a random direction. He was thinking about Kenma, laid out under him, and all Kuroo wanted to do was touch. Simple touches. Slides of hands and soft kisses over every single spot on his body to hear how Kenma would react to each individual one. Neck. Ear. Collarbone.

Kuroo's heart fluttered as he imagined running his palm down Kenma's side and over the slim jut of his hips, thumb trailing to his inner thigh to drag sensation over the skin.

What noises would he make?

He thought about Kenma's face, eyes half lidded and cheeks flushed, tiny breaths leaving his throat. Kuroo didn't even care about himself. He didn't even bother to think about it. He was too concerned with conjuring up what Kenma would sound like, how his body would react beneath Kuroo's touch.

The slide of fingers, maybe. Past resistance, squeezing tight.

Kuroo imagined Kenma groaning, a small noise, and he felt precum spill over the head of his cock as he stroked, rhythm plain and easy. He was far more interested in his mental imagery than the hold he had on himself.

Then a delicate thrum, the steady stroke of Kuroo's fingers against Kenma's prostate.

And now Kuroo was littering his fantasy with Kenma's voice; "ahs" and "Kuroos" and "Tetsurou". Kuroo tilted his head back and heard a grunt leave his throat, his hand moving faster without conscious decision.

His images were starting to skid sideways, losing focus as his thoughts fuzzed with mounting pleasure.  He really wanted to _taste_ Kenma. He thought about bringing his mouth over Kenma's length, sliding his tongue through salty precum and across the smooth flesh of his head. Tongue gliding over soft pink flesh, more slick and salt oozing onto his tongue in response. Kuroo's hips bucked, fucking up into his hand as he moaned low from his chest. And then he would take him back into his throat, feel his airway constrict and tighten around Kenma.

And _fuck_ , to think of Kenma's hips writing, voice groaning out of his throat at he said Kuroo's name, Kuroo's fingers buried in the heat of him, Kenma's body flinching around him--

Kuroo gasped, coming hard and sudden, so sudden his eyes flew open and he groaned loud and rough as his hips arched off the bed.

His inhales were strangled as he stared at his ceiling, blinking hard over unfocused eyes as warmth spilled over his hand.

Then he felt his feet slipping, socks sliding across the comforter, and his back met the bed again. He heaved a sigh, pulling his hand away from his length.

Kuroo glanced down at it and grimaced, then pulled his shirt over his head and wiped his hand clean with it. He threw it at the laundry basket and missed.

He lowered his head back to his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. He blinked a few times, thoughts not coming together quite like they should. He felt kind of strange. Kind of...

Kuroo shook his head and swung his feet over the bed, moving to stand and leave the room.

He grabbed his phone off the couch where he had apparently thrown it when he got home and then padded into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, bending over to stare into it before finally pulling out a pudding cup and grabbing a spoon.

He flopped into a seat at the table, checking the time and clicking at his contacts before moving to hold his phone to his ear with his shoulder. He should have been out of class a bit ago. It rang a few times as he peeled the top off his pudding.

"Yahoo~~"

"Hey Oikawa," Kuroo licked the pudding lid, "I just masturbated."

"You know what Kuroo, I'm going to stop answering the phone when you call me."

Kuroo kept the phone pinched between his ear and shoulder as he dove into his pudding with a spoon, "I feel... dirty."

There was a silence. Kuroo could hear the static between them. Finally Oikawa spoke, "Take... take a bath?"

Kuroo's eyes narrowed and he glared into space even though Oikawa couldn't see him, "Not like that you idiot." He moved his lips around his spoon to take a bite of pudding, "Like... like..." he pulled the spoon out of his mouth and bobbed it in the air a few times, "like _guilty_ , or something."

" _Oh_."

"Is that normal?" he asked.

"Well..."

"Like I feel gross," Kuroo went on. "Kind of empty. Maybe a little ashamed."

"I think that's a pretty normal post-masturbation crisis," Oikawa answered thoughtfully. "It will pass. You'll be back to your lewd self in no time."

"I have _never_ been this horrified at myself after orgasm. Orgasms are fun things. Happy things. What the hell is this?"

"Maybe you grew a conscience."

"I'm gonna stab you," Kuroo responded around the spoon in his mouth.

"Well did you think about anything especially gross? I mean how _Kuroo_ was the fantasy? Was there curry involved?"

"I was giving Kenma a blowjob."

There was another silence.

"Are you still there?" Kuroo asked, pausing in his motions to scrape pudding from the side of the cup.

"Wha-- yeah. Yeah I'm still here. Was the blowjob it? Was that the end of the explanation?"

Kuroo frowned, "Well, yeah."

"What a chivalrous fantasy," Oikawa commented in a far away voice.

Kuroo's eyes slid to the side to regard the phone, "Is it? Anyway I feel kinda crappy now. Except this pudding is pretty good." He licked at the spoon.

Oikawa sighed, "I don't know Kuroo, maybe now that you're fully aware of your feelings for Kenma you feel bad for thinking of him as a... sex object."

Kuroo lowered his spoon, his voice a little soft, "Kenma's never been a sex object to me."

"I understand that, I know that," Oikawa countered quickly, "but when you jack off to someone so specifically, and you're not in a relationship, and they don't realize..."

Kuroo set his spoon inside the empty pudding cup and the cup fell over on the table, "Yeah. Maybe you're right."

"Usually."

"What a pain."

Oikawa cleared his throat all pompous-like, as if he hadn't been sprawled across his couch watching alien shows while hanging upside down (Kuroo had seen him do it, he knows he does it), "Now are you done telling me about your masturbation adventures? Can I move on with my life?"

Kuroo smirked, "Well you see there was this one time when I watched a porno centered around lingerie. There were thigh-high stockings and garter belts and they-- hey, have you ever tried using a silk glove?"

"Kuroo I swear to God."

Kuroo leaned back in his chair with a broad grin, "Fine, fine, suit yourself."

There was a small pause, and then Oikawa quietly cleared his throat, "Actually... what about a silk glove?"

#

Kuroo hadn't seen Kenma much the next day. Kenma had gotten home late after his group work, and then Kuroo spent the entirety of the next day in class, practicing, studying in the library, and stopping for ramen with Oikawa for dinner. He wasn't sure if he was glad for this or not. It was always strange to go long periods of time without seeing Kenma, but as Kuroo's mental situation became more and more focused, he began to worry that those gold eyes would stare right through his head into his soul.

When he got home the lights in the living room were off save for one. Kuroo said a soft, "I'm home," as he glanced around. There were papers spread out across the coffee table and a textbook cracked open next to them.

Kuroo hummed to himself as he glanced in the kitchen and down the hall, but he didn't see any lights or other signs of life.

"Perhaps he's asleep already," Kuroo mumbled to himself as he moved to walk into his room. Then Kuroo froze, eyes wide. He rubbed at them, blinked, and stared again. There was a desperate noise hissing in the back of his throat as he picked up the phone and dialed. He kept his eyes forward to make sure the sight didn't disappear like some sort of mirage.

There was the click of the phone being answered, but Kuroo didn't wait for a greeting. " _Oikawa_ ," he hissed into the phone, " _this is all your fault_."

"I refuse to take responsibility for whatever it is you're talking about," Oikawa responded without surprise or question.

Kuroo flailed his free hand, "You told me to move in with Kenma even though you knew I was in love with him. That's so wrong! That's breaking the rules!"

There was a small huff of a laugh, "In my defense, I didn't realize exactly how dumb you were. I assumed _you_ knew you were in love with him and therefore _knew_ you were breaking the rules, you love struck idiot."

"I'm not an idiot, I was just very deep in denial. We've established this."

Oikawa's voice slowly rose into a squeak, "I shouldn't have to take responsibility for you refusing to accept reality! And plus, what is your problem? Why the sudden rant?"

Kuroo flailed his arms through the air even though Oikawa couldn't see him, "Whe-- when I got home there was... he was--"

"In proper Japanese, please."

Kuroo blinked over at his mattress, then away again, "I just got home," he explained lucidly, "and I went to my room to go to sleep. But..." his eyes narrowed on the scene, "But Kenma is _sleeping_ in my _bed_."

" _Whaaaaat_ ," Oikawa whisper cooed across the line. " _Why_?"

"I don't know, it's not like he left me a note!" Kuroo spat. "But it's not just that. He's... he's..." Kuroo squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip.

"He's what!?" Oikawa was intrigued now, his voice void of all patience.

" _He's sleeping in nothing but boxers and my sports jacket_."

" _Ooooh myy Gooooood_."

"I am losing my composure," Kuroo wheezed, bracing himself against the doorframe.

" _Is he fucking with you?_ " Oikawa asked, concern and disbelief coloring his voice as he whisper yelled into the phone.

" _I DON'T KNOW_ ," Kuroo responded in kind. "You didn't tell him did you?"

"Tell him what?" Oikawa squawked, "That you love him? Jesus no Kuroo, how bad of a friend do you think I am?"

" _Aaaahg Oikawa_ ," Kuroo whined, "This is horrible. He's so cute. Impossibly cute. I can hardly stand it." Kenma's blonde locks were splayed out across Kuroo's pillow, arms curled in against his chest and legs curled up near his stomach. He was breathing nice and steady, his slim shoulders rising and falling as Kuroo stared at him. His hands were clutched around the wrist cuffs of the too-big jacket, the fabric draping over his body and showing a small triangle of smooth flesh over his collarbone.

"Kuroo," Oikawa said seriously, "step away from the adorable boy."

"You can't understand the severity of the situation!" Kuroo retorted, "And step away? He's in _my_ bed."

"Kuroo--"

"Just hold on," Kuroo said, pulling his phone away from his ear. He minimized his call, then pulled up the camera app. He pressed his finger over the speaker to muffle the shutter, quickly snapping a picture and attaching it to a message for Oikawa. He hit send. Kuroo brought the phone back to his ear, "I sent you a message."

Oikawa made a small sound, and then there was shuffling as he pulled the phone away from his face and tapped at his buttons. There was a muffled gasp. _Yep_.

Oikawa brought the phone back to his face in a clumsy rush, "Sweet Mother of--"

"I _know_ ," Kuroo droned, pulling at his hair with his free hand. He then pushed his palm against his eye, "I am a mess of hormones and emotions."

"Even I'm getting a little hot looking at this picture," Oikawa commented nonchalantly.

"Hey!" Kuroo barked, "Don't get hot and bothered looking at my, my--" Kuroo stumbled over his words for a moment, "my love object, you fucking creep!"

"Don't take erotic pictures of your love object and then send them to me, _you_ fucking creep," Oikawa hissed back.

"What do I do?" Kuroo asked, entirely genuine and a little strung out.

Oikawa giggled lowly, "What _can_ you do?"

"Now is not the time to be amused Oikawa!" Kuroo whined, his voice a high hissing whisper.

"If I'm not allowed to be amused at this situation, then when I am? _When_?"

Kuroo covered his face with his hand, "Okay. Okay. I can get through this. Kenma has been disturbingly cute his whole life. I can't let this break me."

"I believe in you!" Oikawa cheered. Kuroo sighed heavily but Oikawa spoke again before Kuroo could form a new thought, "Haven't you guys shared sleeping space plenty of times though? Couldn't you just crawl in bed with your love object and call it a night?"

Kuroo blinked back toward the bed. "Yeah, but..." he watched Kenma's back rise and fall rhythmically. His voice left his throat soft, "it feels a little different now. For me, anyway."

There was a pause, "I understand."

"Alright well thanks for nothing you romantic meddling fool," Kuroo carried on normally.

"Meddlin-- I am n--"

"I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"I WASN'T MEDDLIN--"

Kuroo ended the call. He turned his attention back to Kenma's curled up form. He would just move him back to his bed. That simple. There's no issue here. _Easy_.

Kuroo walked over to him and he couldn't help but blink down at the peacefulness of his small form. His face was so relaxed, void of nerves or tension. His features sat easily on his face as he nuzzled in against Kuroo's pillow. 

Kuroo felt his heart stumble into a quicker rhythm. He internally chastised himself because _dammit man, get a hold of yourself_.

He bent down, sliding his arms under Kenma's knees and behind his shoulders before scooping him up in one smooth motion. Kenma only murmured slightly, leaning against Kuroo's chest and sighing. Kuroo stood there for a moment, genuinely paranoid that the relentless pounding of his heart would rouse Kenma. Thankfully it didn't seem to, so Kuroo turned around and made his way out of the room and into the hallway.

He approached Kenma's open door, and then stopped just outside the entrance.

_Ah. It makes sense now._

Piled high and across every inch of Kenma's bed were layers upon layers of unfolded laundry.

Clothes everywhere, school work scattered all over the living room... he was up late doing laundry and studying and just passed out.

Kuroo pursed his lips. Well he couldn't sleep on or under this disaster. Kenma nudged against Kuroo's chest and Kuroo looked down at him. He curled his hand into Kuroo's shirt, gripping it and sighing.

"Kuroo," he breathed, eyes still closed.

Kuroo's heart stopped. His mind stopped.  He's pretty sure even his blood halted in his veins. He stared down at him, eyes wide and vision shaking. Then he realized he wasn't breathing, and he took a deep breath before letting it back out again. It shook. 

O _kay_.

Kuroo turned again, moving back toward his own room. He placed Kenma back in his original position. Kenma hummed, curling into a smaller ball against the sheets. Kuroo considered his options. He moved toward the bed, pulling his knee onto the mattress. But when his hand touched Kenma's hip his face flushed, and he felt his pulse against his fingers.

He sighed, slipping his leg off the bed.

He'd sleep on the couch.

Kuroo wasn't sure what time it was when he was lightly shaken awake. Not long enough to have another boner-inducing dream, but long enough to develop a real nasty crick in his neck.

"Kuroo."

Kuroo opened his eyes, and Kenma was rubbing at his own, tugging at Kuroo's shirt.

"Why are you sleeping out here?"

"You were in my bed." _Dammit Kuroo you were supposed to lie and say you fell asleep watching a movie. Useless. You're useless._

Kenma's eyelids fluttered, and his voice was thick and drowsy, "I'm sorry." Standing like this Kuroo's jacket entirely covered the boxers Kenma had been wearing, so nothing was visible below the jacket's hem beside Kenma's slim pale thighs.

"It's fine," Kuroo said, hoping the roughness in his voice could be passed off as being sleep related. "I saw the laundry. I just didn't want to disturb you." He interrupted any future words with a big yawn.

"Well come to bed now."

Kuroo shook his head, "You can have it."

Kenma narrowed his eyes, mind finally lucid enough to start pulling logic and action together, "It's a big bed."

Kuroo's mind was choking. He was turning the key but the engine kept chugging.

"You say your back always hurts at practice when you sleep on the couch. Come to bed."

Kuroo closed his eyes. He couldn't just _say_ it. He couldn't just _say_ , "It feels strange to have you pressed against me when I want you so badly." Or, "it feels wrong to take advantage of your ignorance."

Kenma tugged at his shirt again.

Kuroo rose from the couch and followed behind Kenma, whose steps were small and uncertain. He looked like someone who was tipsy and desperately trying not to show it.

It was cute, and if Kuroo had been less terrified he might have smiled.

Then Kenma slid into bed, scooting to the side to allow Kuroo beside him. Kuroo carefully laid down, and as he was adjusting to how he wanted to lay Kenma nuzzled up against him, pressing his forehead in against Kuroo's chest.

Kuroo went still for a moment, but Kenma was already curling one leg up and sliding the other between Kuroo's.

His skin was too soft, too smooth, and the sensation of it rippled out across Kuroo's limbs.

He took a steadying inhale.

Eventually he wrapped his arms around Kenma's shoulders, laying like they had a hundred million times before.

Kuroo was staring into the dark, his eyes not latching onto anything in particular. He wanted to squeeze Kenma tight. He wanted to kiss him all over and tell him he loved him. He wanted to beg him to stay his friend even if he didn't feel the same. The cuddling, the touches, even the living together-- Kuroo would give it all up if he didn't have to give Kenma up completely. He would give up anything if he didn't have to give up Kenma.

The thoughts made his blood shake in his veins and his veins tremble in his wrists. Kenma was already breathing slow, shoulder blades set into a standard rhythm. Kuroo tilted his head, his nose burying into Kenma's hair. He inhaled the scent. He was in bed holding the man he loved, and he was miserable.

What a stupid problem to have.

Kuroo lightly pressed his lips to the top of Kenma's head, eyes fluttering shut.

"Kuroo."

Kuroo went impossibly still. He didn't move his lips. He didn't move his arms. He barely reined in the nervous tremors shivering up his back.

"Your heart is beating really fast."

Kuroo kept his eyes closed, tipping his head against Kenma's hair to free his mouth. "Sorry," he whispered.

Kenma subtly shifted in his grasp. "It's okay. Are you feeling alright?"

Kuroo pursed his lips. Kenma would hear his lie. Kenma would know it was a lie the moment it left his tongue.

Kenma moved then, pushing against Kuroo's hold on his shoulders so he could prop himself on his elbow and look at him. Even in the dark Kenma's eyes were sharp and focused. They were completely clear as they regarded Kuroo. Kuroo blinked back at him, vaguely wondering how his hair wasn't even the slightest bit messed up.

Kenma's eyes glanced at the wall for a second, and Kuroo could tell he was breaking eye contact for Kuroo's sake and not his own, "If there's something you want to talk about..."

Kuroo just shook his head.

Kenma brought his eyes back to Kuroo's face, "I've been... you've seemed a little different lately."

Kuroo's heart was pounding inside him. It felt like it shook his chest with every beat.

Kenma bit at his lip, considering, "Tooru acted a little strange too..."

 _Damn this kid and his eyes_.

"But no one is telling me..."

"There's nothing to tell," Kuroo finally wheezed out.

Kenma looked at him, and something on his face broke for a moment. He blinked heat out of his eyes, pulled the wrinkle out of his forehead, and attempted to drag his lips back to neutral. Kenma swallowed, "So that's what a lie sounds like in your voice."

Kuroo sat up, "Kenma, it's not--"

"I can take it, you know," Kenma said, voice exceptionally edgy considering who was speaking.  

"That's not it." _It's **me**_ **,** _it's fucking **me**_ **.**

"If it's about Tooru--"

"I _told_ you," Kuroo said firmly, heat crawling up his face, emotions boiling and writhing in his gut, "it's not about Oikawa."

Kenma's eyes skirted away, "If it's about Tsukishima--"

Kuroo stood, eyes wide and voice loud, "It's not about fucking Tsukishima!"

They both froze, Kenma on the bed and Kuroo standing in front of him. Kuroo's chest was heaving, and his skin was fire.

Kenma's eyes were wide, hurt, and pointed down. He wasn't looking at him. He slid toward the edge of the bed, his legs spilling over the side. He clenched his palm into the sheets, and his hair slid further around his face.

Kuroo watched the pain shiver out across Kenma's features. Kuroo felt himself wither inside, hate himself, despise every word that ever left his mouth.

Kuroo sunk to his knees on the floor. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Kenma's lap, squeezing his eyelids shut. "I'm sorry," he managed in a wavering whisper.

There was a moment of stillness, but then Kenma's hands moved over Kuroo's head, lightly petting through his hair.

Kuroo buried his face against Kenma's thighs, gritting his teeth together. That didn't stop the shudder from running up his back, visible to anyone's eyes.

Kenma paused in his petting and lightly tapped at Kuroo's shoulders. Then he was tugging at his arms, leading him back up into the bed.

Kuroo crawled next to him and Kenma pulled him in against his chest. Kuroo followed easily and obediently, burrowing in against Kenma's chest and the smell of his own jacket. Kenma was running his hands back over Kuroo's hair, slow and even strokes that pulled the shivers of angst ridden tension from his spine. He shook in Kenma's hold, and he didn't care.  

"I'm sorry," he whispered again.

"It's okay," Kenma told him.

Kuroo felt something breaking in the back of his throat and in between the vertebrae of his spine. Something hot and cloying, prickling and unformed.

Kuroo opened his eyes against the jacket, his breath shaking from his chest. "I love you."

Kenma slid his fingers calmingly up Kuroo's neck and into his hair, "I love you too."

Kuroo pinched his eyes closed against the ebbing heat working at the back of his vision. _Not like that. Not like that_.

"You don't have to," Kenma said softly, "but you can talk to me about anything, Kuroo. I'll always be here."

Kuroo felt a tear slide from his eye and down the side of his face. His shoulders shook and he squeezed his arms around Kenma's waist.

 _I hope so_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's just not one of my fics without a masturbation sequence, apparently. 
> 
> http://suggestivescribe.tumblr.com/


	4. Finding Nostalgia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast and Memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol jk it's gonna be 5 chapters. 
> 
> IMPORTANT:  
> There is another panic attack, and it is in greater detail. If you are sensitive to these things, stop reading at:  
> "Kuroo couldn't see a thing."  
> Ctrl+F to "There was a thick silence". You can contact me [on tumblr](http://suggestivescribe.tumblr.com/ask) or in the comments of this chapter and I would be more than happy to send you a written breakdown of everything that happens between those lines without the details of the panic attack.

Kenma awoke with a small murmur on his lips.

Kuroo was still sleeping, forehead pressed against his chest. His broad shoulders were collapsed inward, and it almost made them seem larger somehow, curled in but still wide and dominating.

Kenma began to lightly scoot backwards, gradually pulling a pillow downward as he pulled from Kuroo's grasp. He slid the pillow where his body once was and Kuroo nuzzled his face into it, arms squeezing around it as he sighed.

Kenma left the bed and the room quietly. Well, perhaps pants were in order. He walked to his bedroom and pulled a pair off the pile, now crumpled since they'd gone all night without being folded. That was fine though; it kept the slight morning chill off his skin. Everything felt shaking cold after being in bed with Kuroo. His body was like a furnace.

Kenma padded out to the kitchen to start making tea. He also started the coffee pot since he knew Kuroo would want a cup when he finally rolled out of bed.

He opened the freezer, standing on his tip toes to peer over its contents into the back. He began rifling through it with his hands, pushing things aside and pulling them out until his fingertips hit the bag.

Seriously, why did Kuroo even _try_ to hide it? It's not like it could be anywhere but the freezer, and even if it was a hassle--

Kenma opened the bag of mochi. He frowned. Deep.

There were assorted frozen vegetables inside.

Kenma raised his gaze to stare into the freezer. That big--

A knock sounded at their front door.

Kenma shot a glare at the door as if it had been a part of the plot. Kenma let out a sigh and threw the bag back in the freezer, walking out to the front door. He tilted his chin to peer through the peephole, immediately pulling his face away from it. He considered sinking against the door to the floor and ignoring it.

There was another, slightly louder knock.

Kenma jumped in place. Well, if another follows then it will probably wake Kuroo. Kenma closed his eyes for a moment before clicking open the locks and turning the doorknob.

When the door opened he tilted his face upward, a motion Kenma didn't particularly enjoy for how open his features became.

Muted gold eyes blinked once before sliding down to him, and the slight upward cut that his lips took on almost made Kenma's eye twitch.

"Tsukishima," Kenma greeted.

Kenma had seen Tsukishima a few times, but they had never been formally introduced. Tsukishima walked around with an air of cold superiority. It was a cover, of course, a veil over _something_. But regardless he was the type of guy in high school and junior high that had made Kenma nervous and uncomfortable, on constant guard from sharp comments and jokes made at other's expense. He immediately made Kenma uneasy, like he had to pull his mental guard higher and tighter in his presence.

Tsukishima's eyebrow twitched upward once before his forehead furrowed insincerely, "You have me at a loss. What's your name?"

Kenma felt his lips pressing into a thin line. "Kozume," he answered. He left it there.

"Oh?" Tsukishima asked, "Weird, I don't think I've ever heard Kuroo say that name before." The catch at the corner of his mouth held an amount of condescension that Kenma found distinctly unpleasant.

Kenma's voice was as steady as his eyes, "I imagine he wouldn't." There was a bite in the air between them.

"Is he around?" Tsukishima asked with a tilt of his head. "Kozume-kun?"

Kenma's eyes narrowed, "-san," he corrected, earning himself an almost startled blink from Tsukishima, "and he's asleep." Kenma was swallowing the shaking nerves climbing his throat. He clenched his hand into a fist so that the tremble in his fingers would be squeezed steady.

Tsukishima was looking down on Kenma with some consideration. He had the type of face that Kenma couldn't imagine truly smiling, like happiness hadn't yet been able to seep into those dull gold eyes of his. Kenma vaguely wondered what that face could look like, void of the venom. Perhaps Kuroo had seen it. Perhaps it was fine for him, this way.

"I can wake him," Kenma offered flatly. He was fine observing Tsukishima, but he wasn't too keen on Tsukishima doing the same. Tsukishima was intelligent enough to pluck at someone's personality until he found their insecurities, and Kenma didn't want to bare any of his for him.

"Mm," Tsukishima hummed for a moment as the coffee pot rang out from the kitchen, "I have to get to class soon anyway. Just give him this for me." He handed Kenma a ticket, apparently for some music something or other at a bar.

Kenma wordlessly took it into his hands.

Tsukishima was watching Kenma's face, and when Kenma looked back up at him he cocked his head, "Isn't that jacket a bit big for you?"

Kenma compulsively clutched at the sleeves, pulling his hands up to his chest. His eyes moved to the side, "I think it fits me just fine..."

When their eyes met again Kenma saw it, saw the clarity move across Tsukishima's irises. Kenma instantly felt like a piece of him had been peeled away to reveal a nerve, stretched and raw, and Tsukishima could see it blaring and red, splayed out before him.

Kenma's heart was fluttering as Tsukishima tilted his head down, facing Kenma more squarely. His eyes darkened, "Thanks, Kozume-san." Then he smirked, "Tell _Tetsu_ I said hello." Then he turned, moving away from the door with long striding grace that Kenma could never have.

Kenma closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as his face burned. He wasn't sure which emotion it was, exactly. He thought it might have been many.

Kenma made his way back into the kitchen, setting the ticket on the table and moving to make his tea. His thoughts were unfocused and fuzzy, buzzing at the forefront of his mind and making it difficult to focus.

Kenma shook his head, concentrating his unsteady hands on the movements of pouring and stirring and drifting through steam. He was just turning around to sit at the table, cup of tea in hand, when Kuroo emerged in the doorway.

"I heard coffee noises," he said drowsily.

Other than a slight puff below his eyes he looked normal, hair sliding up one side of his head and gold eyes half closed with sleepiness but still sparking bright in the morning sun.

"Yes," Kenma answered, sitting down, "there were coffee noises."

Kuroo shuffled over to the coffee pot, leaning over the counter to pour himself a cup. "Have you had breakfast?"

Kenma afforded him a glance out the side of his eyes, "I just got up."

Kuroo brought the cup to his mouth, still steaming, and took a small sip. His face pinched in at the heat, but he took another drink anyway.

Kenma shook his head, "You're going to burn your mouth."

Kuroo made a small groaning sound, " _Uhg_ , but I need the caffeine to chase this grogginess away."

Kenma glanced up at him. Waking up with swollen eyes had a tendency to weigh a person down. Kenma understood.

Kuroo leaned against the counter, "Want pancakes?"

Kenma put down his glass of tea to give Kuroo a disbelieving stare, "Do you know how to make pancakes?"

" _No_ ," Kuroo answered logically, "but I can learn."

Kenma pulled the school newsletter across the table with his fingertips and allowed his eyes to land on top of it, "I don't need breakfast anyway. I never eat it because I don't have the energy when I get up in the morning."

"Lazy," Kuroo said as he bent over to peer into their fridge. "Do we have any chicken?"

Kenma shook his head, "Why would we have chicken?"

"Fine," Kuroo said, throwing a couple containers on the counter and pulling out their carton of eggs, "You'll get a bland breakfast then."

Kenma idly shook his head as he read over an article.

Kenma was sipping at his tea without notice for awhile. Kuroo was clanging around doing something; there were multiple frying pans and oil and rice involved. Finally Kenma looked up when the smell reached him, a pleasant thing that made his stomach hum with newly discovered hunger.

Kenma watched Kuroo's back as he fried rice. He made the counter look so low.

His broad shoulders were working and moving under the thin layer of cotton, his head dipped down, watching the food. Kenma wouldn't say his expression was blank, or that it was happy. Perhaps just... very content.

Kenma curled his hands around his mug.

Kuroo was moving to the eggs now, cracking them open above the pan with one hand, middle finger and thumb forcing the shell apart. Kenma was oddly intrigued by the motion.

Kenma was about to turn back to his newsletter when his eyes hit the ticket on the table. He blinked at it, then back to Kuroo, who was tilting his head back to take a sip of coffee.

"Hey, Kuroo," Kenma spoke, watching the side of Kuroo's face.

"Hm?"

"Does Tsukishima call you by your given name?"

Kuroo's head jolted to the side, face jumbled up in bewilderment, "What? No."

Kenma watched him as he took another sip of his coffee, eyebrows still drawn together in confusion. Kenma blinked, "Even during sex?"

Kuroo spit his coffee back into his cup, then turned his head to the side and held out his mug to try and recover. He wiped his mouth on the shoulder of his shirt and took a deep breath with a shake of his head, " _No_." He turned to fully face Kenma, "Where's this coming from anyway?"

Kenma looked back down at the newsletter, "Nowhere."

"Quite the obvious lie you got there."

Kenma's lip twitched. He pushed at the ticket, "He dropped this by for you this morning."

Kuroo threw it a vague glance, "Okay." There was a pause and then a mumble, "Still doesn't explain the name thing..."

Kenma took a sip of his tea, ignoring him.

That made him feel better. Sort of. Better about Kuroo.

Kenma narrowed his eyes at the newsletter he wasn't reading.

Worse about Tsukishima.

Kuroo's mouth did that thing it does, catching up one side of his face and splitting so his canines could snag at the light, "What, worried that someone might be using your best friend's given name and it's not you?" He bent over to tip his gaze at Kenma.

Kenma clicked loudly in the back of his throat, eyes growing irritated. Why was Kuroo the most observant when it was most embarrassing? "I thought Tooru was supposed to be the perceptive one?" Kenma jabbed dryly.

"Ohoho _ho_ , territorial now are we?" Kuroo prodded, ignoring him.

Kenma rolled his eyes.

"You could, you know," Kuroo said, body facing his cooking again but still throwing glances over his shoulder. "Call me by my given name." Kenma was just raising his eyes to blink at Kuroo when he grinned and added, "Might get a bit awkward though."

Kenma scrunched his nose.

"Oh. There it is. The 'ick' face."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Kuroo returned his full attention to his frying pans after that, and was soon dumping the rice into the egg pan. There were a few more motions, transference from pan to plate, quick work with a ketchup bottle, and then Kuroo was setting down a plate in front of Kenma.  

It was a rice omelet, and it had a winking face drawn onto it with ketchup. Ketchup triangles adorned the plate above the face for cat ears.

Kenma blinked down at it, blank faced, before slowly turning his gaze up at Kuroo. Kuroo gave him alternating finger guns with a click of his tongue and a wink.

Kenma covered his mouth with his hand to disguise the huff of a laugh in his throat.

###

Kuroo fluttered his feet in the air.

"I called Kenma 'kitten' yesterday."

Oikawa turned to glance at him, his hair flopped off his forehead and standing straight up. Well, hanging straight down, since they were hung over the couch upside down watching TV. His lips caught into a smirk, " _Oh?_ " He looked too amused. "What did he do?"

"I don't know," Kuroo answered honestly, returning his gaze to the TV. "I fled the scene immediately."

Oikawa snorted.

"You just snorted."

Oikawa reached out and slapped him in the chest and Kuroo wheezed as his body flinched around awkwardly upside down.

Oikawa laughed until he started to choke, and when he fell off the couch it was Kuroo's turn to stifle a snort.

#

The next morning involved rice and pickled plums and Kuroo insisting they go grocery shopping together. Kenma looked up from the table, eyes landing on Kuroo's face like he was truly tiresome.

"I don't even need bre--"

"You're a growing boy!" Kuroo argued.

"I don't think I am."

Kuroo's head tipped heavily to the side, "Well maybe if you would have eaten breakfast..."

Kenma shook his head, dropping his eyes back to the table as Kuroo sipped at his coffee. But even as Kenma was frowning at his phone he said, "Fine, we can go sometime today."

Kuroo grinned at him, earning him another exhausted look, but it appeared maybe happy-exhausted, so that was okay.

Kuroo slid across the table on his arms, resting his chin on it as he poked at Kenma's phone.

Kenma twitched the phone away from his fingers. Kuroo reached further and knocked it out of his hands. Kenma drug his gaze up to stare at Kuroo flatly. Kuroo stuck out his bottom lip.

Kenma blinked at him, "You're acting like Tooru."

"Needy but cute about it?" Kuroo questioned. Kenma pursed his lips. Kuroo dropped his voice to a whisper, "Is it working?"

Kenma tipped his head back on his shoulders, "What do you want?"

"Watch bad TV with me ki--" Kuroo cleared his throat, "Kenma."

"Tooru's not here; we could watch good TV."

Kuroo smirked, "That works too." Kuroo grabbed his coffee and Kenma's tea and moved out to the living room. "All these calm mornings have me feeling nostalgic," Kuroo mused. He set the cups down, "I want to watch Dragon Ball. I miss Vegeta."

Kenma threw him a glance out the side of his eyes, "Piccolo's the best." He sat down, phone in hand. "And Dende," he added quietly.

"Heh," Kuroo coughed a laugh. "I remember. And I remember playing handheld games through the repeats..." Kuroo sighed as Kenma turned on all the electronics. He glanced to the side and immediately had to do a double take, because the edge of Kenma's lip was tilted up at the corner.

"Yeah," Kenma said, the blue flicker of the television casting soft light over his features, "I remember too."

Kuroo blinked, his cheeks filling with heat. "Maybe," Kuroo said, clearing his throat again after hearing the roughness of his voice, "it's not really the type of morning making me nostalgic." He watched the side of Kenma's face, grazing over the glow of his features, "Maybe it's spending the mornings with you."

Kenma turned to him, and when his eyes rested on Kuroo's face, he _smiled_.

Kuroo actually felt the gaze puncture his heart.

Kenma turned back to the screen without comment or consideration, as if he hadn't just murdered a grown man in his living room, "Do you have a preference?"

Kuroo shook his head, but he realized he was staring at the side of Kenma's face and Kenma wasn't looking at him. "No," he finally managed to spit out, "no, I don't."

Kenma got up off the couch to peer at his shelf, eyes working over old dvds. Kuroo watched him quietly. When he came back Kuroo hadn't even registered what he'd picked, and he hadn't been lying when he said he didn't care.

Kuroo slowly worked through his coffee and tried not to send too many glances over at Kenma, whose knees were curled up against his chest on the couch.

They were watching Goku attempt to put out a very intense castle fire when Kuroo started blinking and rubbing at his eye. There was something in it, and it was scratching the hell out of him with every blink. He was going at it awhile, eye watering, when Kenma finally paused the show and looked over at him.  

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Kuroo said, waving at him, "I just got something in my eye."

"You're going to make it sore."

"Just give me a minute."

"Kuroo," Kenma grabbed at his arm, "stop." Then Kenma moved on the couch, slinging one leg over Kuroo's lap and settling across his thighs. Kuroo froze as Kenma's fingers touched at his chin, tilting it up to look at him. "Stay still," he directed.

Kuroo tried to say 'okay' but it left his throat as a breath instead. Kenma was staring down at his eye, small body perched atop him. Heat was all over his lap and on either side of his legs, and it turned into a burning through his chest and across his cheeks. Kuroo dropped his hands, and even though they were trembling he set them against Kenma's hips.

It made his heart swell into his throat, flailing in an attempt to beat properly as big gold eyes gazed down at him. He held Kuroo's cheek with one hand and gently pulled at his eye with the other.

"It's all red," Kenma said in a smooth voice. "Since you rubbed at it for so long."

Kuroo stared at him. He could do nothing else. He couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't suppress the butterflies tearing apart his gut or the shaking heat in his fingertips. Kenma moved the hand that had been on Kuroo's cheek and used it to pull lightly at Kuroo's eyelid as his other finger pressed in against the underside of his eye.

His lips were parted as he concentrated, pink and lax and swooping down to cradle the natural pout of his lower lip. Kuroo stared at those lips, felt his own lips part as the tremble in his fingers vibrated through his chest, shocking his heart and jostling his shoulders.

"I know you trust me and all," Kenma said, eyes moving down to his own finger as he pulled it away from Kuroo's face, "but isn't it human reflex to blink when there's a finger in your eye?"

Kenma held out his finger and Kuroo's eyes dropped to it.

"Eyelash," Kenma said, holding it in front of Kuroo's mouth.

Kuroo raised his gaze back to Kenma's eyes. His mind was pulling apart. Thin. Blank.

Kenma's eyes finally moved back to Kuroo's, blinking once as he looked down at him, expression calm and even.

Kuroo's right hand twitched tighter on Kenma's hip, but he raised the other to slide through Kenma's hair, his palm running against his cheekbone before he pressed his fingers against the back of his neck and tilted his mouth to bring their lips together.

It was the dead silence of deep space before the crack of nuclear explosion.

Kuroo felt heat rush out from the contact, burning his skin and making him sweat, and the blood rushed through his ears and rang out like an alarm.

Kenma's mouth was soft, sweet, the plush touch of perfection against Kuroo's unworthy mouth. He felt his heartbeat rising through his throat and making him feel strangled, and the hand at Kenma's hip was shaking so badly now there's no way it wasn't obvious to Kenma.

Kuroo couldn't breathe, and he was all fire and want and absolute _terror_ , and when he lightly opened his mouth to make an attempt at oxygen and pull around Kenma's lower lip he realized Kenma wasn't leaning forward, wasn't opening his mouth, wasn't moving.

Kuroo pulled away from the kiss, eyes wide and vision shaking with the rest of him. He blinked at Kenma.

Kenma was staring at him. His face was absolute stone.

Void.

Blank.

Kuroo couldn't see a thing.

His shoulders started shaking. He felt his chest starting to heave that fucking heart back into his throat again. Kenma wasn't moving, wasn't reacting, wasn't even _blinking_ , and Kuroo could feel his eyes start to burn. His chest was being crushed. It was intense weight that forced him down, pressed against his sternum until he felt it might break.

"I," he croaked. He lightly grabbed at Kenma's hips with both hands, pulling him off of his lap and depositing him back onto the cushion of the couch. Kuroo stood, almost staggered, and walked toward the front door.

He flung the door open with shaking hands. "I'll be back," he mumbled without sparing a glance over his shoulder.

Kuroo heaved oxygen into his lungs. He forced his legs to move forward quick and unthinking as he clutched at his chest. He told himself that there was air all around him, his throat was _working_ , his lungs were _working_ , he could _breathe_.

But it took quite a few desperate gasps for breath and strangled inhales before he felt he could even _see_ with any sort of clarity. He moved his body toward a park, an open and green area with lots of space and tons of _air_. He leaned against a tree, shoulders rising and falling hard as the bark scraped against the palm of his hand.

"Fuck," he whispered to himself. "Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_."

He looked up through the branches at a patch of bright blue sky. His chest fell heavily, and as he watched a wisp of a cloud move across the sky his next inhale felt full, felt like it actually made it to his lungs. He tried again, repeating it until he could hear things beyond the wail of the ring in his ears.

His eyelids fluttered closed, and a breeze moved over his face.

He slid his hand in the pocket of his pants, withdrawing his phone. The familiar ring felt good to his ears. The familiar voice felt better.

"Yahoo~~"

"Oikawa," Kuroo started, his voice thin and strung out, "I don't... know..." he felt his chest tightening again.

"Kuroo," Oikawa said, voice dropping immediately serious, "Are you okay?"

"I think..." he paused, his throat stinging, "I think I just had a panic attack. Am still having one? How do these things work, anyway..." he squeezed his eyes shut.

"What?" Oikawa's voice was sharp and attentive. "Where are you? Do you need me to come get you?"

"No," Kuroo whispered.

"I'll stay on the phone," Oikawa said, "just tell me--"

"I kissed Kenma," Kuroo interrupted.

There was a beat of utter silence. Then there was a small sound, almost a click, like the sound of Oikawa's lips parting. And then he let out a quaint breath, his voice lightly clinging to the noise. It sounded like...

Pensive relief.

"Okay," Oikawa said, tone steadying. "And..."

"I fucked up," Kuroo said, turning to lean against the tree. "I fucked up bad Oikawa."

There was a small pause before Oikawa asked in a tentative voice, "What do you mean?"

"I just... he just..." Kuroo ran his hand up through his already disheveled hair. His thoughts were spinning out of control.

"Kuroo," Oikawa said softly.

"Oikawa, please," Kuroo said, voice tipping over and taking on an edge of desperation, "I don't care if it's a lie; I don't care if you actually know. Please tell me I didn't just ruin my relationship with my best friend. Please. _Please_."

"Kuroo," Oikawa said, voice softer than he would have thought Oikawa was capable, "this isn't a lie. I do know and I can tell you: you didn't fuck things up with Kenma."

There was a thick silence as Kuroo stared off in front of him. Then he heaved a sigh, chest falling so heavy it almost hurt, and he sank to the ground where he stood. He dropped his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

Oikawa continued, "There are multiple ways to approach this." There was a pause, and Kuroo could hear rustling, like Oikawa was moving around to find a better place to talk. "Kenma is even more observant than I am. If he thinks you're not ready to face what you just did-- which is certainly how it appears-- then he probably won't even _say_ anything."

Of course Oikawa was right. Kenma avoided conflict. He would much rather ride out a storm than face it head on.

"So in theory, you could pretend it didn't happen, ignore it, or whatever until you've figured yourself out. However..." Oikawa's voice dropped a little, and it softened as he continued with his next thought, "I don't think I'm okay with that. Personally, as Kenma's friend."

Kuroo opened his eyes, staring blankly at the grass.

"Because while it's never this simple, and while Kenma might not say anything, he's probably feeling one of two ways. One: he's worried because he's not interested and you are, but you didn't give him a chance to talk it out with you. Two: he _is_ interested but you ran off after your own advances. Either way he's probably confused, and he's probably worried about losing his best friend."

Kuroo squeezed his eyes shut again and sighed. Guilt sat heavy in his shoulders, "I'm a shitty friend."

"You're not, Kuroo, _you're not_ ," Oikawa assured him. "And Kenma doesn't think you are either. I don't think he ever could."

Kuroo leaned his head back against the tree, felt the bark scrape against his hair. He opened his eyes to the speckled light blinking through the leaves of the tree, "What do I do?"

There was a pause. "What do you think you should do?" he asked.

Kuroo sighed, watching everything tilt and sway in the breeze, "I know what I _want_ to do, I know what I _should_ do, but..." Kuroo cut himself off. His heart was heavy in his chest. "Oikawa. If he rejects me..." Kuroo covered his face with his hand, breathing heavy against his palm with his next words, "I feel like it might kill me."

There was an extended period of silence. Kuroo could hear the breeze moving above him, could hear the faintest murmur of people in the distance.

Kuroo wasn't used to being vulnerable. He wasn't prone to sadness or self consciousness, wasn't quick to anger or be let down. Part of that was due to Kenma, who had been a foundation for him his entire life, a steadying thing he could rely and lean on. And Kenma never disappointed him, never made him angry or sad, but was always there to support him when something finally managed to get under his skin.

Going through all of this without him was foreign, and painful, and because of that Kuroo couldn't thank the gods enough for Oikawa.

Because talking to Oikawa was easy. Oikawa may be a cocky bastard, but he was much more caring than one could ever realize looking in from the outside. _He_ was prone to sadness and self doubt, and Kuroo thought that's part of what made him a great friend. He didn't want his friends to feel the things he felt, so he always helped them however he could.

"I don't think he's going to reject you," Oikawa finally spoke. Quietly, tentatively.

Kuroo let his hand slide off his face. "You say that but..." Kuroo stretched his neck to either side before continuing, "I've gotten pretty accustomed to reading Kenma. To seeing past his eyes. And after we kissed..." Kuroo huffed a breath against his knees.

"You couldn't read him?"

"I couldn't," Kuroo affirmed. "At all. That's why I panicked."

"Well it is you after all," Oikawa said, his naturally condescending tone starting to seep back into his voice, "you're kind of a slut so maybe he thought you were just screwing with him and he didn't want to get overly excited."

"Yeah," Kuroo said with a cough, " _I'm_ definitely the slut here."

"From the man's own mouth."

Kuroo felt himself chuckle lightly.

"Kuroo, I think you're forgetting something important."

Kuroo's mouth twisted down, "Hm?"

" _I'm_ the one who brought up your love for Kenma. _I'm_ the one who called you out. I'm good at these things. He's not going to reject you. I wouldn't set you up for failure, damn."

Kuroo felt a smile pulling at his mouth. Kuroo pressed his forehead against his knees.

"I have plenty of reasons to believe Kenma has feelings for you. I don't know how aware of them he is, since apparently some people can walk around in love with someone for over a decade and not realize it..."

"Shut up," Kuroo said through his chuckle.

He could hear Oikawa's smile in his voice, "But I really think he does. If I didn't, I wouldn't have proceeded the way I did."

"Is that so?" Kuroo asked, lifting his head.

"It most certainly is."

Kuroo sighed, shoulders sinking against the tree. "Okay," he said.

"Okay?" Oikawa repeated, voice cautiously optimistic.

Kuroo leaned over and stood, the normal strength of his legs bearing him up and steady once more. "You're right--"

"Of course."

"-- about it not being fair to Kenma," Kuroo continued without pause for Oikawa's interruption. "So I just have to find my courage and tell him. It wasn't a slutty kiss, it was a real kiss, and I did it because I love him."

"Good man," Oikawa breathed, pleased.

Kuroo allowed his head to fall backward on his neck, and he gazed up at the sky. "I'm scared," he stated simply.

"I understand. But you'll be okay. You'll _both_ be okay. You two will always be inseparable."

Kuroo's lip twitched up.

"But you have to tell me what happens. Right away. I've gotten so many terrifying calls from you lately, you better let me have a good one."

"Sure," Kuroo said, digging in his other pocket to grab his wallet. He flipped it open, double checking, and closed it again. "But I have to do something first. Before I go back home."

"Eh?"

"Well," Kuroo said, moving to walk forward, "I know I'm a gross man, but I still try to be a _good_ one."

"Ah," Oikawa said, understanding coloring his voice. "Is it necessary?"

"It's at least courtesy," Kuroo said simply.

"You are a good man Kuroo," Oikawa said, "why would Kenma bother with you otherwise?"

"Poor decision making, probably," Kuroo answered. He allowed Oikawa to laugh for a moment before he added, "That would explain his friendship with you, too."

"Rude!"

"I'll call you when I need to get drunk enough to forget my entire childhood."

Oikawa spat a laugh, easy and nonchalant, "You'll call me when you're ready to celebrate."

Kuroo grinned, "Alright."

"Alright~"

Kuroo hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. He walked for awhile. He didn't feel confident in Kenma returning his feelings like Oikawa did, but he was starting to feel confident that he could at least resolve this. He believed in Kenma enough to believe that he wouldn't be totally abandoned, even if he didn't feel the way Kuroo did. It might take some time, and he might need some space, but...

Kuroo's eyes locked on the door in front of him.

Kenma wouldn't leave him alone to suffer.

Kuroo rapped lightly against the door. He could hear the shuffle of footsteps and the click of a lock before it swung open. When it did Kuroo smiled, too softly, probably.

"Hey Tsukishima."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://suggestivescribe.tumblr.com/


	5. Finding Courage

Tsukishima's eyes narrowed slightly, blinking once in quick consideration before he spoke, "Hey."

Kuroo tilted his head, "Mind if I come in?"

Tsukishima allowed the door to swing open wider as he climbed the stairs. Kuroo slipped off his shoes and followed him. There was some sort of background music playing from their television upstairs, and when Tsukishima hit the top of the landing someone spoke,

"Ah, Tsukki, Shimada-san just told me he couldn't meet up tonight so if you wanted--"

Kuroo walked into view and the boy's sentence stopped, eyes sliding off of Tsukishima's face and over to Kuroo's.

"That's fine," Tsukishima answered without hearing the rest of the sentence. He moved to walk in front of the TV, not bothering to look at either of them.

The kid blinked, eyelashes fluttering over big innocent eyes and casting small shadows over the sprinkle of freckles on his cheeks. "Oh, and you had the best kill-death ratio again Tsukki, it was pretty--"

"Shut up Yamaguchi," Tsukishima sighed, standing in front of the door to his room. He cast Kuroo an irritated glance that said ' _well are you coming_?'

Kuroo smirked, glancing down at the boy on the couch. He had a sort of light and innocence on his face that Kuroo didn't see often. Kuroo hoped he was stronger willed than he looked; Tsukishima would eat him alive.

Kuroo walked past Tsukishima and into his bedroom, the door closing behind them.

Tsukishima turned to look at Kuroo, not saying anything but watching his face. Kuroo wouldn't exactly call it interested, but it was intent nonetheless.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Kuroo said, standing with a few feet between them as he looked past Tsukishima's lenses and into his gold eyes.

Tsukishima's eyebrow twitched up, "Obviously."

Kuroo's canine caught at his lower lip. Little shit. "Aah, well, it's difficult to say, so I'll just spit it out." Tsukishima tilted his head as Kuroo ran his hand up through his hair. "This," Kuroo said, motioning between them, "whatever it was, I'm not... going to be participating. Anymore."

Tsukishima stared at him, blank faced.

Kuroo dropped his eyes under the heavy stare, "It has nothing to do with you, though."

Tsukishima adjusted his stance, shifting weight onto his other leg. "That's fine," he responded simply. Kuroo brought his eyes back to him, "It's not like we were anything anyway." He pushed his glasses up on his nose, the glint of the light moving over his eyes, "Frankly I'm surprised you bothered to address it this way."

Kuroo allowed his head to tip back on his shoulders, "Yeah, well..." he sighed heavily, then lurched his vision back forward, "It seemed right, anyway."

Tsukishima was still staring at him.

"Uhm," Kuroo shuffled his feet, "are you curious as to why?"

"Not really," he answered dryly. Kuroo cringed, but then there was a small gust of air over Tsukishima's lips, like he was exhausted by the idea of placating him, "Does it have to do with Kozume-san?"

 _Kozume-san?_ Kuroo raised an eyebrow, "Y-yeah. I uh... recently realized I have feelings for him."

"For your childhood friend?" Tsukishima's mouth cut up at the corner, "How quaint."

Kuroo grinned at him, "Yes, extremely _quaint_ of me."

"Well good lu--"

"I'm sorry," Kuroo cut in shortly. Tsukishima stopped midsentence to stare in surprise at Kuroo. "I mean..." Kuroo went on, "I feel bad for anyone I ever dated, really." He lightly ruffled the back of his hair with his palm.

"We were never--"

Kuroo shook his head, "I know; doesn't matter. I was dooming everything before it started because I was too stupid to realize my own feelings." Kuroo bent slightly at the hips into a bow, "I'm sorry for wasting your time."

Tsukishima was staring down at him with mild shock and horror, until his face eventually warmed over. "It's fine," he said, lips falling into something a bit softer than Kuroo was used to seeing, "whatever it was, it was fine while we had it."

Kuroo straightened his back and pulled out his wallet, handing Tsukishima the ticket he had dropped off for him, "Give this to your roommate or something."

Tsukishima took it, long fingers pinching around the paper and eyes falling on the heavy block print. "Thanks," he said.

"No problem," Kuroo moved to walk past him.

"Not--" Kuroo paused mid-step, "not for the ticket," Tsukishima corrected. "For the courtesy."

Kuroo slowly lifted his eyes to look at Tsukishima's face. Tsukishima turned his head, avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah," Kuroo said softly. He wondered if he should say more, maybe reiterate 'it wasn't you'. But he had a feeling Tsukishima would hate that because it would feel too deep and maybe a little like pity, and there was no need for any of that. "And hey, Tsukishima."

Tsukishima finally brought his eyes back to Kuroo, face flat.

"Your roommate seems like a really nice kid," Kuroo paused to smirk, "try not to be too cruel to him."

Tsukishima clicked his tongue, the irritated "tch" that Kuroo had come to hear more than anything else from him catching between his teeth, but he was grinning.

Kuroo turned to leave at that, taking long strides through the living room and back down the stairs.

Unfortunately he still had the hardest part left.

Kuroo clenched his hands into fists. _Courage_ , he thought desperately to himself, _somewhere in there, you have it_.

#

Kuroo hoped his neighbors weren't peering out their windows, because it took him a real long moment and some solid bouts of deep breathing in front of his door before he could even wrap his fingers around the handle.

When he finally turned the knob he felt his heart immediately begin racing in his chest.

 _No, it will be fine. Everything will be **fine**_.

Kuroo walked in, stepping on the heels of his shoes, "I'm home."

Kenma wandered out from the kitchen, gold eyes placid and blinking as he held a glass of tea, "Welcome back," he said calmly.

Kuroo's heart started beating even harder.

Kuroo immediately threw the entire notion of remaining calm out the window.

"Your coffee got cold, would you like me to make you a new cup?"

Kuroo blinked down at him. Oikawa had been right. Kenma was avoiding it, ignoring it for the sake of Kuroo's pride or their friendship or whatever. "No, that's okay," Kuroo answered, moving to sit back on the couch. "It's fine."

Kenma followed him, sitting back down where he had been before Kuroo left without hesitance.

Kuroo glanced at him out the corner of his eyes, taking in the soft pout of his lips and the gentle sweep of his nose, fingers delicately wrapped around his glass of tea.

"Actually," Kuroo said, springing off the couch, "coffee sounds good. Great, even. I'll go make some."

_You're an idiot._

Kuroo tried not to visibly _flee_ to the kitchen, but that's definitely what was happening. He mechanically moved about, grabbing coffee filters and grounds and water until he was flicking the machine on and listening to the soft gurgle as it percolated.

He rested his elbows on the counter, bending at the hips to stare directly into the pot as it dripped. He wasn't seeing it though, not really. Instead he was focusing on quelling the thumping in his chest that shook his vocal cords and hit against his lungs.

The house felt strange. It was the sort of calm directly following or preceding a storm. The air was thick even though outside it was bright and sunny, and purposeful silence settled on his surroundings like dust. It was overly still and looked untouched, almost as if when Kuroo had walked out the door time had stopped or everything else had ceased to exist, somehow. Kuroo watched the dark liquid splash into itself.

But it hadn't. While he was gone, Kenma had been here. Upset, sad, offended. He had been _something_ and Kuroo hadn't been here to help him.

Kuroo sighed. He sucked.

The coffee machine beeped directly in Kuroo's face and he jumped, far too lost in his own thoughts to pay attention to everything around him.

He poured the coffee with shaking hands. He didn't even want it.

He moved back out to the living room where Kenma was still sitting. The TV was on, lighting up the side of Kenma's face as he glanced over the back of the couch at Kuroo.

"Sorry about that," Kuroo apologized weakly.

Kenma sipped at his tea and spoke against the lip of his glass, "It's fine."

Kuroo lowered himself back onto the couch and his palms were sweating but that was okay, he told himself that was _fine_.

Kenma set his tea back on the table before hitting "play", the episode they had been watching picking back up exactly where they had left it.

The metaphorical significance was not lost on Kuroo.

Kuroo's eyes slid to the side to look at Kenma's face. He was curled up again, eyes on the screen, arms hugging around his legs. He seemed normal. He didn't seem like he had been writhing around in horror or panic while Kuroo had been gone, but then again it's not like it would be visibly obvious if he had been.

"You alright?" Kuroo asked.

He was watching Kenma close enough to see the slight stiffen of Kenma's back. "Yeah," Kenma answered easily. There was a pause. This is where someone usually says 'are you?' Kuroo waited. "Why do you ask?"

Kuroo's lip twitched up at the corner, "You're kind of hard to read sometimes."

Kenma furrowed his brow, glancing at Kuroo out the side of his eyes.

Kuroo leaned to the side on the couch, dipping closer to Kenma and peering up at his face with a grin, "I don't know why I ask though, it's not like you'd ever tell me." Kuroo could feel his body flushing with heat but he was ignoring it. He could _do_ this.

Kenma spoke against his knees, voice all muffled, "How do you tell then?" He was fidgeting, sliding his feet over and under each other repetitively and curling his toes as he did so.

"I stare at your face a lot," Kuroo answered honestly. "For like two decades."

Kenma returned his eyes forward, cheekbones flushing pink against his knees.

"It's tough because you hide it," Kuroo said, poking at his side.

Kenma flinched and slapped at his hand.

Kuroo leaned in closer to stare at his eyes, "I gotta work for it." Kenma leaned back away from Kuroo's face, eyes skirting off to the side, but they were still close, and Kuroo grinned, "Luckily it's a nice face."

Kenma was falling backward, almost laying on the couch, "Kuroo you're so embar--"   

When he took a moment to glance at Kuroo it gave him pause, because Kuroo was lightly leaning over him, staring deep and serious into his eyes. His shoulders gave a small shiver as he held himself in place. Kuroo blinked down at him, eyes scanning all over his face, memorizing every placid line and sweep so he would know exactly how it changed when he asked, "So. Are you alright?"

Kenma swallowed hard enough that it was visible. Kuroo's heart was out of control, but he watched Kenma carefully as he pinched his lips in and decided what to say. "Yeah," he finally answered, almost breathlessly. But his eyes were purposefully guarded, a little hazy as he stared not-quite into Kuroo's eyes.

"There's a partial truth in there," Kuroo said with a soft smile. Partial truth, partial lie.

Kenma blinked, eyes almost fluttering. He didn't deny it though. Instead he locked more directly onto Kuroo's eyes, gold irises clearing for the sake of observation, "Are you?" he asked, voice strained and quiet.

Kuroo kept his smile, but he shook his head.

Kenma's mouth opened a little, almost like glazed over surprise at being told the truth. "Why?" he questioned softly.

Kuroo moved his hand, pushing aside a strand of Kenma's hair. "Remember when we were talking about soulmates?" Kuroo asked.  

Kenma's eyes shivered in focus, and he gave the slightest of nods.

"Well," Kuroo went on, gaze moving to slide along the line of Kenma's mouth before rising back to his eyes, "you were wrong."

Kenma blinked at him then, confusion growing clearer in his eyes.

Kuroo trailed his thumb across Kenma's cheekbone, and he could feel his fingers shaking, and his shoulders were beginning to follow. "I did find the right one," Kuroo explained in an unsteady voice. His hands were trembling strong enough for Kenma to feel, but Kuroo did his best to ignore it. He blinked at Kenma with heat in his eyes and his heart in his throat, "A long time ago."

There was a moment of nothing. But as Kuroo stared at Kenma, Kenma's eyes began to grow wide, his mouth parting around realization, and his arm shivered where it held him.

"Kenma," and no, no, his voice did not just break a bit there, "I love you."

Kenma was staring at him in such shock that it looked like all of his breath had been squeezed from his lungs. He lightly pressed his hand against Kuroo's shirt, curling his hand into the fabric without words. He was shaking. His entire body was trembling in place as he looked up at Kuroo with eyes that looked like they still weren't sure if they were observing reality.

Kuroo's face was hot and burning. He felt like he could cry or scream or level an entire city with all the anxious heat pulsing through his veins. But instead he blinked over wide, terrified eyes, and asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Kenma blinked, and when he huffed out a breath it came with the word, " _Please_."

Kuroo wasn't sure if he was more propelled by himself or by Kenma dragging him down by grip in his shirt, but it didn't matter, because in less than a heartbeat their lips were crashing together.

Heat screamed through Kuroo's veins. It sliced up his arms and down his back and shook his legs.

Kenma was pressing his lips up against Kuroo, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, breathing heavy through his nose. It was unbelievable, it was unreal and otherworldly and impossible but _it was happening,_ and Kuroo inhaled against his mouth like it was the last breath he would ever take.

The warmth of Kenma's mouth bloomed from their lips and buzzed behind Kuroo's eyes. Kuroo could feel his breath shaking, and he wasn't sure if the adrenaline was helping or hurting, but he felt like he could cry. He was kissing Kenma and Kenma was kissing him back, he was holding him and he wasn't running away, and Kuroo felt all the nerves in his body explode into passion.

He bore down on Kenma heavier, sliding one arm under the small of his back and using the other to support him against the couch.

Kuroo opened his mouth to kiss at Kenma's lower lip, but Kenma surprised Kuroo by opening his as well, breathing into Kuroo's mouth and stealing his air as he took Kuroo's lip for his own.

Kuroo felt the violent thrum of blood ache in his limbs. He hummed, opening his mouth to run his tongue over Kenma's lips. Kenma returned the gesture, and when Kuroo slipped his tongue inside he was met with delicate glides against his tongue, gentle and glancing, and Kuroo had to try not to groan on his inhale as he squeezed Kenma closer to his body.

He was trying not to devour him whole, trying not to be too vicious or aggressive, but breath was leaving Kenma in hurried gasps, and he was meeting every kiss like he needed another.

Kuroo moved away from his mouth to place small kisses along his jaw, his neck, under his ear.

Kenma made a strained humming sound, something that was almost a groan, and his hips tilted up to grind against Kuroo.

Then all of Kuroo's air was gone, knocked out of him, because he could feel Kenma's length through his pants grinding against him.

"Oh Jesus," Kuroo dropped his head, pulling his lips away from skin to force strangled breath into his lungs. " _Ooh_ Jesus."

Kenma tipped his head to glance at him, pressing a kiss to the corner of Kuroo's mouth. Kuroo sighed and turned his head to meet Kenma with his lips. He felt like he could melt into his mouth, dissolve on top of him like this in a pool of heat and desire. Kenma slid his hand up through Kuroo's hair and Kuroo detached again, to take a breath and to lightly suck the smooth flesh of Kenma's neck into his mouth.  

Kenma _did_ groan this time, hips jerking and chin tilting up to elongate the line of his neck. Kuroo felt precum spill over his cock, and he gasped at the noise and the friction of Kenma's length against his own.

When Kenma blinked his eyes open they were warm and hazy, glassy pools of gold moving over Kuroo's face. His hand moved down, finding Kuroo's length under his shorts and wrapping around it.

Kuroo shivered, a husky noise leaving his throat. He blinked down at Kenma, who was watching him very carefully. Kenma started moving his hand.

"Ah," Kuroo gasped, head lolling down and back flinching as his hips compulsively rocked into the touch.

Kenma's face didn't seem to change, but something in his eyes looked pleased at the response.

Kenma stroked over it and the breath left Kuroo's lungs heavily. "Kenma," he said, a sentence that he used to know falling dead on his tongue as blood rushed up through his body and his hips pressed in against the motion. "You--" Kuroo's thoughts started slipping sideways.

Kenma leaned up, bringing his lips to Kuroo's throat, and nipped at the base of his neck.

Kuroo groaned, clenching his fists, and Kenma's breath caught at the noise. There was a small pause, and then he did it again, just a bit harder.

Kuroo choked on his air, felt his cock twitch in Kenma's hold as a coarse noise vibrated through his chest.

Kuroo finally pulled his eyes open, blinking away the static in his vision, and moved to bring his lips down over Kenma's and grind their hips together.

Kenma made a small noise against Kuroo's mouth and pushed up into the sensation.

Kuroo wasn't sure if his heart was actually vibrating in his chest or if the shaking throughout his body just made it feel that way. Frankly he wouldn't have been surprised if his heart had actually exploded and he was just living off sheer willpower.

"Kuroo," Kenma whispered. He slid his hand under Kuroo's shirt and his fingertips raked hot sparks across his skin wherever they touched. His thumb slid over his abs and seams of muscle, palms grazing against skin and wrapping around Kuroo's side to dig light crescents into his flesh.

Kuroo pulled away to look at Kenma's face. His eyes were wide and needy, his body subtly shifting in place as if he was repressing energy that was still managing to shiver out at random. Kuroo swallowed, forcing his heart down his throat, "What kitten?"

There was another catch in Kenma's breath at the name, his eyelashes shivering over his eyes before he blinked down at Kuroo's arm. He grabbed at it, gently guided it toward himself, and then pressed Kuroo's palm against his length.

They both shuddered.

Kenma stared up at him. Kuroo felt his mouth going dry, "You--"

Kenma tilted his hips into the touch and a small gasp moved from the back of his throat.

Kuroo had to take a moment to try and breathe through the heat radiating off his skin. He slid his hand slowly upward, then slipped the tips of his fingers under the waistband of Kenma's pants.

Kenma hiccupped a breath, turning his face away from Kuroo's gaze.

Kuroo shakily moved his hand down, and when he bumped against Kenma's length he had to clear his throat around the noise that rose from his chest. Precum slicked across his knuckles, a reminder that made Kuroo shaky and unsteady and _desperate_.

He wanted to _taste_ him.

He wrapped his fingers around Kenma's length, dipping low so he could press a kiss against the neck Kenma was baring for him with his head turned to the side.

The moment he moved Kenma's hips jerked up and he made a tiny noise, an erotic little, " _ah_ ", and Kuroo knew that if Kenma continued like this he would probably unravel before Kenma would.

Kuroo started stroking and Kenma's hips starting undulating into the touch with tiny little groans. Kuroo felt his boxers growing slick and sticky with every passing breath. His heart was throbbing in every part of him, and watching Kenma squeeze his eyes closed and pinch pink lips with a sharp line of teeth to contain his groans was only making it worse.

Kuroo dipped his head down and began sucking at Kenma's neck with every upward motion of his hand.

"A- _aah_ ," Kenma moaned into his hand, hips jolting up into the touch. Kuroo felt precum spilling heavy over the head of his cock every time he pulled Kenma's flesh into his mouth.

"Oh God," Kuroo breathed, pulse pounding in the head of his cock. The warm slick over his fingers made fissures of pleasure crawl up his thighs.

Kenma shook his head. "No," his voice was small.

Kuroo immediately halted in his motions, thumb stopping as it drew slow circles around the head, "No what?"

Kenma's eyes were flitting around, embarrassment burning his cheeks red. "I want..." he trailed off.

Kuroo leaned down, softly sliding their cheeks against one another. He whispered against his ear, "I'll give you whatever you want."

There was a small silence, and then Kenma's hand fluttered downward, lightly touching at Kuroo's cock through his shorts.

Kuroo blinked. "Okay," he said, still uncertain.

"No, you don't understand," Kenma said in a quiet voice. Kuroo could hear the insecurity in his words. "Not... like this..."

Kuroo's body fell into complete stillness. He felt his eyes growing large.

Kenma started squirming nervously beneath him at the silence.

Kuroo lifted himself to more directly stare at Kenma's face. Kenma wouldn't make eye contact; he was fidgeting crimson and gold worry. "Are you sure?" Kuroo asked.

Kenma nodded.

Kuroo was dreaming, wasn't he?

Kuroo cleared his throat and tried to pull some of the high strung mania out of his voice, "Kenma, we don't have to rush it. We can wait as long as--"

"Does it feel like a rush?" Kenma asked, his voice still low but exponentially more steady. "Or does it feel like we've been waiting for years?" He stared unwaveringly at Kuroo.

The sudden confidence in Kenma's words was startling.

Kuroo swallowed. He wasn't sure if he was shaking again or if he had just never stopped. "I told you I'd give you whatever you wanted," he managed.

Kenma blinked at him, "I want _you_."

Kuroo had to repress an actual groan. A shaking breath left his lungs. "Okay," he wheezed, almost squeaked, "okay."

Kuroo pressed a quick kiss to Kenma's forehead before he hauled him off the couch, wrapping his arms around his back and thigh to hoist him into the air. Kenma clung to him easily, not missing a beat as Kuroo moved to walk down the hallway. They went into Kuroo's room, and Kuroo wasn't sure if it was just habitual or not, but before he deposited Kenma on the bed he paused, "Oh, would you rather--"

"This is fine," Kenma answered, eyes sliding off to the side.  

Kuroo smiled soft and easy, then covered Kenma's mouth with his own again. But Kenma's hands were already working, slipping under the cotton of Kuroo's shirt to push it up and coerce it above his head. Kuroo smirked, moving to stand so he could peel off his shirt and step out of his shorts as well.

"Uhm, you probably already realize this," Kenma was saying as Kuroo lifted the shirt past his face, "but I'll tell you anyway, just to be clear..."

"Mm?" Kuroo pulled at the drawstring of his shorts, moving to tug the cord free of its knot and--

"I've never..."

Kuroo's hands froze.

"I mean... this is the first time I've..."

Kuroo felt his throat closing.

No. _No_ no no no no.

He brought his eyes, wide and stunned, back to Kenma's face. Kenma still wasn't looking at him but his shirt was gone, and he looked mostly okay sitting atop the comforter. " _What_?" Kuroo wheezed.

Kenma blinked up at him, then back down at the mattress, "Well... you knew that... right?"

Kuroo turned around. He literally had to break line of sight with Kenma. Because no, _no_ , he was _not_ getting impossibly wet and hard at the realization that his best friend was still a virgin.

Kuroo bit his lip, _I'm going to hell_.

"Kuroo?"

Kuroo covered his face with his hand. Of course he was a virgin. He had never dated anyone even semi-seriously, had only gone out a couple times, never acted physically interested in _anyone_ , and yet Kuroo hadn't really thought about it, hadn't really considered...

"Is that... no good?"

Kuroo spun back around, "No," he answered quickly, " _no_. Of course there's nothing wrong with that, it's just... it's just..." he stared at Kenma's small form curled on his bed, big gold eyes and soft locks of hair moving against his cheek.

 _I'm not worthy_.

Kenma shifted nervously, "I..." he swallowed and cleared his throat as if to strengthen himself. "I've done... _things_. I'm not..." he struggled with his words for a moment. "I understand myself," he finally said.

Kuroo let go of a shaky breath and vowed to revisit the mental images _that_ brought up later. "Okay," he said tentatively, "okay. That makes me..." _not as horrifyingly terrified to touch you_ "less nervous."

Kenma let go of a small breath that looked like a sigh of relief.

Kuroo made his way back onto the bed and Kenma slowly lowered himself for Kuroo until he was hovering over him once more. Kuroo kissed him, and he just _knew_ he would never get over the flutter in his stomach at meeting those lips.

Kuroo opened his mouth, spilled his tongue into Kenma's, exchanged soft warm touches and dipped his hips down to press sensation against the other.

Kenma made a small gasping noise and Kuroo purred, forcing more friction against their lengths through their boxers. Kuroo's hand was sliding down Kenma's side, drinking in smooth flesh with his fingertips and feeling the shudder of reaction slide down Kenma's body.

Each shiver was prompt as if it had been laying in wait, a ripple coiling in anticipation for something to disturb the surface of the water.

Kenma's skin was so soft, so pure, that it felt unreal beneath Kuroo's hands. Kuroo slid his palm over Kenma's length and Kenma whimpered.

So _pure_.

Kuroo's heart jolted in his chest, "I can't," he said, raising himself slightly and shaking his head, "I can't do this, I can't--"

"Kuroo," Kenma said, hand clamping down on Kuroo's shoulder. His eyes were stern, and if Kuroo wasn't mistaken it almost looked like Kenma had _expected_ this, "I didn't do this with anyone before because I didn't _want_ anyone else." His eyes narrowed on Kuroo's face, "I _want you_ , Kuroo."

Kuroo swallowed.

"You have my permission," Kenma said softly. "Please stop worrying."

Kuroo lowered his head, pressing his forehead against Kenma's. He pinched his eyes shut and he felt Kenma lightly squeeze at the back of his neck. Kuroo was a little embarrassed by how much he needed consoled in such a situation. "Okay," he finally whispered.

Kuroo rose then, and lightly began tugging off Kenma's boxers. Kenma blinked, suddenly surprised, but complying easily nonetheless.

Kuroo glanced up to meet his eyes, "Do you--"

"You know best," Kenma interrupted, his shyness returning as quickly as it left. "Whatever you think we should..." his cheeks were dusting pink.

 _Best_ , Kuroo thought to himself. He really didn't know if a _"best"_ existed, but for now he could shoot for "most comfortable." Whatever would hurt Kenma least would be good.

Kuroo moved to peel Kenma's boxer's off, something he did with a little too much leering at Kenma's petite legs. Once Kenma's body was laid out before him, Kuroo couldn't help but pause in his motions to stare.

Slim hips and shoulders, smooth lines of leg and delicate angle of hipbones. Soft and flat stomach, a smooth swoop of waist to hips, a flushed pink cock dotting precum just below the subtle slice of his navel.

"Sweet gods," Kuroo breathed.

Kenma's shoulders flinched in, red crawling down his neck in embarrassment.

Kuroo physically shook himself to break his eyes from Kenma's form because it was obviously making him uncomfortable. He grabbed a pillow and patted at it to beckon to Kenma. Kenma slid the pillow under his hips to prop himself up a little higher and Kuroo lightly touched at his knees to spread his legs as he lowered himself onto his stomach.  

Kenma's eyes grew wide, and Kuroo really wished he could have repressed the smirk that worked over his mouth.

"Kur--" Kuroo dropped his head and slid his tongue over Kenma's entrance. " _Aah!_ " Kenma almost yelped, hips twitching.

Good start. Kuroo licked again, his tongue heavy and wet over the puckered skin. Kenma hissed breath into his lungs.

Kuroo kissed at it, licked it again, slid his tongue in slow circles around it.

Kenma's hips were shivering almost violently, and Kuroo grabbed at his thighs to help keep him steady.

"Do you like it?" Kuroo asked coyly, glancing across the expanse of Kenma's torso to his face.

Before Kenma could answer he encircled the entrance with his tongue and then slid the tip just inside.

Kenma moaned, face squeezing and breaking, back arching and fingers desperately gripping at the sheets.

Kuroo lapped at it a few times, then kissed it and hummed, " _Mm_."

Kenma's chest started heaving, breaths coming in desperate gulps as his fingers fluttered against the mattress.

Kuroo slid into him with his tongue, pushing past the staunch pressure and resistance.

Kenma let out a broken cry and one of his hands fluttered into Kuroo's hair, gripping at the locks.

Kenma's moans were even more erotic than Kuroo had imagined they would be. They hit the low notes of his voice and drug them smooth and long through the air, arcing and tipping into high, desperate gasps.

Kuroo thrust into him with his tongue, and it was tiring but it was _so worth it_. Kenma's hips pushed against his face, nails dug into his scalp, voice groaned from his throat as he turned his head to keep Kuroo's eyes off his face.

Kuroo withdrew and allowed Kenma's hips to relax against the pillow. He licked at it a little more, a bit playfully, then pressed his lips back to his skin and sucked against the hole.

Kuroo didn't know Kenma was capable of making the noise that left his chest.

It was _rough_ and loud and groaning. Kuroo felt his cock twitch at the sound, his own breath huffing out through his nose as he felt his cock grow even slicker.

Kuroo thrust his tongue back in, then out, then sucked.

Kenma's hips bucked. He hissed.

Kuroo repeated it.

Kenma's feet kicked and fluttered uselessly, frustrated.

Kuroo smirked, then leaned over to grab the lube from beside his bed. He coated his fingers as Kenma attempted to catch his breath, then dipped down and repeated Kenma's new favorite pattern just to hear the harassed groans that left his throat and watch his tiny hips jump into the air.

Then Kuroo pressed his fingers against Kenma's entrance, closely watching his face to see how he'd react.

Kenma blinked, and he looked anxious but not _nervous_ , and the movement of his hips to put more pressure against Kuroo's fingers was telling enough.

Kuroo licked his lips, maybe a bit carnivorously, then slowly slid the tips of his fingers inside.

Kenma's teeth tore into his bottom lip as he tried to suppress the buck of his hips. The excessive rise and fall of his chest made _Kuroo_ tired. But he could feel Kenma's heartbeat around his fingertips, the flutter of his pulse an actual sensation as his body clenched around Kuroo.

He waited a moment, listened to Kenma's breathing go more steady, and then slid in further.

Kenma and Kuroo both groaned.

 _Oh **God** it was so **hot**_.

Kuroo allowed for another small breather before sliding in the rest of the way, slowly twisting his wrist as he did so.

Kenma's voice was rough again, his back bowing, but he was pushing down against the pressure in an effort for more.

It took all of Kuroo's strength not to grind his hips against the sheets and come right then.

Kuroo started thrusting, slow movements at first. It was frighteningly tight, but Kenma was taking it well. Better than well, really. He moved his hips against Kuroo's hand, slightly tilted them as Kuroo began pressing against his insides.

Kuroo crawled upward a bit, hand and fingers still working, and placed a kiss against the shaft of Kenma's cock.

Kenma whimpered again, and his hips twitched compulsively.

" _Mm_ ," Kuroo hummed, "you make such nice noises." He kissed just under the ridge.

Kenma gasped out a breath, his voice moving with it weakly. Kuroo started curling his fingers experimentally, pressing pressure in new places to find where Kenma liked it best.

"Oh God," Kenma breathed, "Kuroo, don't, you'll--"

Kuroo gently curled his fingers and Kenma's head tipped back as he moaned, precum dumping from the head of his cock.

"Oh," Kuroo purred, pressing another kiss to Kenma's cock. "Right there?"

He curled his fingers again.

"A- _ah! Jesus_ Kuroo--" Kenma bit his lip, then shook his head, "Kuroo, you have to stop or I'll--"

"Mm?" Kuroo hummed, trailing kisses up his length, "do I have to? Do you think you can give me two, Kenma?" Kuroo pressed a wet kiss just under his head and curled his fingers.

Kenma's eyes flew open and he groaned, hips bucking, and he came in heavy spurts onto his stomach.

Kuroo's eyes grew wide.

... oops?

The clench of Kenma's body around Kuroo's fingers made his cock ache. He had to grit his teeth against Kenma's orgasm, keeping his rhythm going until Kenma's hips wound down. He watched the flushed bob of Kenma's cock and the panting tremble of his lips, and precum was flowing savagely from his own length, drenching his boxers and slipping against his skin.  

Well shit. _Shit_.

Kuroo had no idea if he could actually make him come again. And he was a wet leaking mess himself, desperately trying not to fuck into the sheets, and he somehow had to hold himself together, and _Jesus_ he was an awkward teenage seme all over again.

Kenma was heaving breath, sinking against the bed.

"Should I withdraw my fingers?" Kuroo asked carefully.

Kenma looked beat, totally drained, but he shook his head.

"Are you sure?"

Kenma nodded.

"Well," Kuroo said, fingers still in place, "First things first."

Kuroo licked up Kenma's half-hard length and slurped it into his mouth.

Kenma groaned, and Kuroo felt him flex and move around his fingers.

He was salty, and his length was soft and malleable in Kuroo's mouth. Kuroo hollowed out his cheeks, sucking at the thin folds of skin until he felt Kenma's cock swell in his cheeks. The skin smoothed out and grew hard, and soon Kuroo was feeling the burn in the back of his throat as he sunk down over him.

He teased his head until he felt new beads of precum slip under his tongue, allowed the weight to fall heavy in his mouth as he dove down around it.

Kenma groaned, hesitantly lifting his hips to meet Kuroo's lips. He also felt Kenma relaxing around his fingers, opening up again. Kuroo started thrusting into him, slow and gentle to match the bob of his head over Kenma's cock.

Kenma really started shaking then, and he couldn't seem to decide whether he wanted to thrust up into the wet of Kuroo's mouth or sink down over the pressure of his fingers.

He eventually opted for the fingers, and it wasn't until Kuroo slid in the third finger that the motions of Kenma's hips took pause.

He groaned, body falling still as his back arched against the extra intrusion.

Kuroo moved his mouth away from Kenma's cock. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Kenma nodded. "Yeah," he breathed, "I'm fine."

Kuroo went on for a bit longer, making sure Kenma's body was well primed, but his cock was throbbing so painful and was so sensitive that he couldn't bear it much longer.

He pulled his lips off of Kenma and slowly withdrew his fingers. When Kenma's eyes blinked open Kuroo looked at him for a long moment. Kenma just nodded.

Kuroo reached over to his nightstand to grab a condom.

"Um."

Kuroo turned to look at Kenma.

"You don't have to..." Kenma said, body shivering, and whether it was from nerves or anticipation or overstimulation, Kuroo wasn't sure. "I trust you..."

Kuroo turned his gaze away from Kenma. Oh _God_.

How could he tell him? How could he say, 'But kitten, without it I'm worried I _won't last_.'

After a brief pause, Kuroo turned back to Kenma. "I'm glad, Kenma. But this time..." he looked down at the bed, cheeks growing warm, "I need it so that I..."

Kenma blinked in sudden understanding, and he broke his gaze from Kuroo's face. His cheeks were pink too. "Okay," he said. Kuroo squeezed his eyes shut against the burn on his face. The mattress squeaked, "But at least let me..." and when Kuroo opened his eyes Kenma's mouth was hovering over his cock.  

"Oh no--"

But Kenma was already sinking his mouth down around him.

Kuroo immediately clutched the base of his cock as thick wet heat slid around him. He groaned, hips rocking into the almost friction with such desperation it was shameful. His chest was shaking as his head tipped back. When he looked back down he watched Kenma's tiny mouth stretch around him, devour him almost to the back of his throat.

"Jesus Kenma," Kuroo almost whimpered. No one is allowed to look that cute while giving a blowjob. It's against the laws of nature, it's impossible, it's-- "Kenma, you have to stop," and yes, his voice was pleading.

Kenma swirled his tongue around the head one last time before pulling away, lips still slick and flushed with friction. Kenma took the condom out of Kuroo's hand while he was busy gaping down at him and unwrapped it, sliding it gingerly over Kuroo's length.

Kuroo shuddered, but then Kenma was kissing him, warm and comforting on the mouth, and guiding him back down to hover over him.

Kuroo and Kenma looked at each other for a moment. Kuroo realized he wasn't prepared for this. He never had been and never would be prepared for what was about to happen. He felt his heart stop.

Kenma's pupils had overtaken his irises, gold only visible on the outer most edge like a solar eclipse. They were both shaking, trembling, lips shivering with each heave of breath. Kuroo pressed his palm in against Kenma's cheek before kissing him again, and he kissed him hard, tried to print all his nervousness against his lips so it would stop shaking him from the center of his bones.

Then he kissed his collarbone, his neck, his jaw, all as he aligned their hips.

Kenma's eyes fluttered, and there might have finally been a bit of nervousness there. But he looked at Kuroo like Kuroo was the only thing in the universe, and that gave Kuroo enough confidence to finally press in, just a slight touch of pressure, and then he slid forward.

Kenma choked on his inhale. His eyes almost rolled back in his head as he gripped and twisted at the sheets.

Kuroo groaned, low and rattling, as pressure bore down on him from all sides, so hot and tight that he felt he might lose consciousness. He sunk in deeper and Kenma's arms flailed slightly, a pained noise scraping from his throat.

Kuroo paused in his motions and kissed all around his mouth, all over his face, and ran his fingers through his hair.

"It's okay," he whispered. "Relax for me kitten, it's okay."

Kenma took a deep breath and forced it out all at once, arms wrapping around Kuroo's neck as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Kuroo waited. His spine was trembling. His cock was drenched in pressure and heat and his legs were shaking in an effort to stay still, in position, resisting every carnal urge to _fuck into him hard_. Then Kenma swallowed, and Kuroo felt the tension move out of his shoulders. Kenma let go of a small breath, and hummed.

Kuroo adjusted slightly, still sliding his fingers through Kenma's hair, and then slid the rest of the way in.

A moan ripped from Kenma's lungs, long and exhaustive.

"Are you okay?" Kuroo asked, trying to keep his voice soft and edge the panic out. He ignored the pressure at his hips urging him to seek out waves of friction.

"F--" Kenma made a small noise, head lolling to the side.

"Hm?" Kuroo questioned, eyes flickering all over his face.

Each breath was a word, "Finally," he heaved, " _full_."

Kuroo felt a full body shudder work down his spine and through his legs. Kenma was trying to kill him. "Okay," he said in a thin voice, "I'm going to move."

Kenma hummed, face falling into easy relaxed lines and a gentle flush of cheeks.

Kuroo slid his hand around Kenma's length, earning him a surprised gasp just before he started moving his hips in slow thrusts.  

Kenma's fingertips skid through the sheen of sweat across Kuroo's shoulders as they both groaned. Kuroo's blood was fire in his veins. He felt himself shaking within Kenma, quivering, and he pressed his face in against Kenma's shoulder to help stifle the weak gasps that kept tumbling over his lips.

Kenma ran his hand up through Kuroo's hair.

" _Ah, aah,_ " each thrust gave Kenma a new noise, a tiny gasp or strained moan. " _Kuroo_."

"Oh fuck," Kuroo breathed. He couldn't deal with the name. He couldn't deal with Kenma _moaning_ his name.

Kuroo watched Kenma's face, paid attention to the reaction of his hips when he thrust. And when he found the angle that made Kenma hiss an inhale and _mewl_ , hips jumping and head falling back to allow for a strung out groan, Kuroo could repeat it instantly. Over and over again.

Kenma squeezed his arms tight around Kuroo. He was whimpering, but his hips were rising to meet Kuroo, slow and sure motions that made them both moan loud against one another.

Kuroo kept burying his face in against Kenma, breathing in his scent and kissing the taste of his skin into his mouth. He sucked on his neck and shoulder as his hips rocked into Kenma, noises leaving him so that Kenma could surely feel them vibrating off of Kuroo's lips and into his flesh.

Heat was raking up from the base of Kuroo's spine. It was tingling up his legs and mounting in waves in the marrow of his bones, dragging sensation up to the surface of his skin.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Kuroo pressed their foreheads together, held Kenma's face in his palm as he swung his hips into him.

Kenma kissed him, gasping against his mouth. "Tets--"

No.

Kuroo groaned, and he felt the blood swelling and surging under his cock. "Kenma, Kenma, I--"

He wanted to tell him he loved him, but that seemed wrong. He wanted to tell him he was perfect, but he knew Kenma would never believe it. He wanted to say a million things, but he was compelled to say nothing, because for a long, sweaty, dragging moment, he felt so perfectly connected to Kenma that no words could ever convey the heat that threaded them together.

Kenma gasped, and his hips were shivering, "Oh, Tetsurou, _Tetsurou_ , I'm--"

Kuroo felt Kenma's body spasm around his cock.

" _Aah_ ," Kenma groaned, hips bucking and insides tightening, but Kuroo didn't even have time to be surprised because he was too busy coming _hard_ , in pulsing waves, inside Kenma.

On some level he felt the warm slick spill over his fingers. On some level he knew Kenma's back was arching and his voice was cracking around a moan that sounded almost painful. But mostly it was a blast of light and heat behind his eyes, and he was smearing his lips all over Kenma's skin to taste him as he poured inside him, fingers gone completely numb and throat gone hoarse as he moaned Kenma's name.

It felt like it lasted forever. Like his muscles exhausted every last bit of energy, pulsed until they were entirely devoid of strength and use.

He panted on top of Kenma, buried his face in his hair until they were both shivering with aftershocks.

Kuroo kissed behind his ear, against his cheek. He whispered soft words that he didn't even remember as he pulled himself from Kenma.

Kenma hissed, but after it was done his body relaxed, sagged against the mattress and then curled in on his side.

Kuroo pulled a blanket up over his body and curled around him, kissed the back of his neck, slid his fingers through his hair.

When Kenma's breathing was peaceful Kuroo slid from beneath the comforter and tucked it back around Kenma nice and tight. He left the bedroom and began drawing a bath.

He wandered out to the living room, legs a little wobbly, and picked up his phone. There was a message from Oikawa,

>> Are you okay?

Kuroo smiled, then typed out a succinct message,

>> We are both very okay.

Kuroo was only putting the phone down when another message appeared. What, was he camped out over his phone?

>> TELL ME. NOW.

Kuroo smiled wide and dropped the phone back to the couch. As he checked on the bath he heard his phone start to ring the tone he had especially for Oikawa, and he couldn't help but laugh deep from his chest.

When he ventured back to the bedroom it was to scoop Kenma up into his arms and carry him to the bathroom.

He ran a soapy lather over Kenma's body. He was sure to be gentle since Kenma seemed a bit out of it, but every stroke still managed to make Kenma's head bob on his shoulders, apparently tired enough to be in danger of falling asleep sitting up. He took his time with Kenma's hair because he loved it, had always loved running his fingers through the easy straight locks.

His own was not so fun.

He rinsed Kenma off and Kenma just sat there, eyes closed and water streaming over his face like he had discovered true peace in their bathroom. Kuroo couldn't help but smile. He burned the expression into his mind, the expression that was absolute bliss without the normal blistering smiles, and instead showed an expression so placid that it looked like Kenma had found balance in his natural state.

When he helped Kenma into the bath Kenma moved to the side, automatically making room for Kuroo.

Kuroo's body was thankful for the warm cover of water. He felt his back and shoulders relax, his head tipped back and leaning against the tile.

Kenma slid closer to him, nuzzling his head against Kuroo's chest. Kuroo's smile was just going to stay on his face today.

"Are you okay?" Kuroo asked, eyes moving down without moving his head.

Kenma nodded, cheek sliding against Kuroo's skin. Kuroo lifted his hand and started pulling his fingers through the strands of Kenma's hair.

"... say... gain..." Kenma mumbled something into Kuroo's chest.

Kuroo blinked, his eyes half lidded and drowsy, "What was that?"

"Can you say it again?" Kenma asked in a soft voice.

Kuroo shifted slightly to get a better look at Kenma, "Say what again?"

Kenma tilted his head up, blinking up at Kuroo with big gold eyes. His cheeks were red from the steam, cheekbones glistening under the soft lighting.

Kuroo felt his lips soften, curling up at the corners, "Do you mean that I love you?"

Kenma's blush deepened and he pressed his face against Kuroo's chest again. Kuroo chuckled, the noise lower and deeper than usual.

"You know..." Kenma started, his voice exceptionally soft as his damp eyelashes flickered over Kuroo's chest, "you were my only friend for a long time." Kuroo tipped his head down to look at Kenma, but he didn't say anything. Kenma was idly moving his fingers on the slippery skin of Kuroo's chest as he spoke, "When we were in junior high and people were getting boyfriends and girlfriends, I thought it was stupid."

Kuroo smiled, "It _was_ stupid."

"Yeah," Kenma agreed. "But it confused me. I didn't understand what people needed outside of their friends."

Kuroo's eyebrow twitched up.

"I asked a classmate and they said that the feelings were different, whatever that means." Kuroo was smiling. Kids talking about love. "It took me making a few close friends... through volleyball with you... to realize what they meant."

Kuroo turned his body a little more this time to look down at Kenma with some interest. He was finally blinking the fog out of his vision, and he could see that Kenma was nervous telling this story. His eyes were focused on the random movements of fingertips, and his breathing was a little shaky.

"I didn't understand until I had more friends," Kenma explained. "I didn't understand that the feelings I felt for friends and the feelings I felt for you weren't the same."

Kuroo stilled.

Kenma leaned his head against Kuroo's chest. His voice was almost too quiet to hear, "I think I've loved you for a long time."

Kuroo wished he could say his eyes weren't a little warm.

He pulled Kenma closer to his chest. "I'm sorry I made you wait so long," he said softly before pressing a kiss to the top of Kenma's head.

Kenma just shook his head.

There was a long silence, and Kuroo could feel his eyes starting to fall closed, when he heard the small voice, "Say it again?"

Kuroo's face cracked into a grin. He turned Kenma to face him and dipped low to meet his eyes, "I love you," he said, teeth flashing. "I'll say it whenever you want, until you get rid of me."

Kenma was literally sinking, sliding deeper into the water as his face went red.

"Oh, that reminds me," Kuroo said, blinking down at him. "I think we should take our relationship to the next level."

Kenma's eyes grew wide as Kuroo reached under the water and gingerly took Kenma's hand into his palm.

"Kenma," he said, voice serious. Kenma's eyes were darting around. Kuroo blinked at him, staring hard into Kenma's gold irises. He took a steadying breath and said, "Will you move in with me?"

They stared at each other.

Kenma pointed to the door, "Get out."

" _Aww come on_ \--"

"Out."

"It was at least _a little bit_ funny."

"You're awful."

"I know." Kuroo smirked at him, "And you love me."

Kenma scrunched his nose.

"Oh fuck," Kuroo said, aghast. "The 'ick' face."

 

 

Epilogue:

 

Kuroo was scanning the newspaper as they all sat around the cafe table in silence. "Oi. Kawa."

Oikawa slammed down his latte, "Don't just tack my name onto your greeting!"

Kuroo tipped his head in Kenma's direction without looking up, "See why we're so broke now?"

Kenma was eating probably his fourth ball of mochi in twice as many minutes.

"Kenma you're gonna make yourself sick," Oikawa chided lightly. Kenma ignored him.

"Ah, Kuroo-san, Kenma-san!" They all moved their attention over and upward to take in Lev's bright and smiling face above them. Kenma appeared to brace himself for impact. "And the handsome genius!" Lev added when his eyes fell on Oikawa.

"I don't care what you say, I like this kid," Oikawa commented, throwing a glance at Kuroo.

Kuroo grinned to hide his grimace, "Hello Lev."

"Kenma-san, it's been a long time!" Lev said, leaning over slightly so Kenma wasn't craning his neck to look at him.

Kenma actually managed a small smile, "Yeah, it has." Kuroo was so proud. "By the way Kuroo," Kenma added, "can we move that new bookshelf into the guest bedroom?"

Kuroo shrugged, "Sure."

Lev blinked at them, "Guest bedroom? How big of an apartment did you get?"

Oikawa's eyelashes fluttered, "It's just a two bedroom, but these two sleep together now." He winked.

Lev straightened his back and turned an accusing look at Kuroo, "See, I knew it! I told you that you and Kenma-san were dating!"

Kenma narrowed his eyes at them.

Kuroo chuckled, maybe a bit nervously, "Ah but Lev that was a long time ago--"

Lev frowned, and it was like seeing a puppy disapprove of you, "No it wasn't, it was just three months ago--"

"Three months?" Oikawa questioned lowly, tossing a coy glance at Kuroo. His eyes skirted back up to Lev, "So Lev," his voice dropped suave for half a moment, "have you seen Yaku's whip yet?" Kuroo buried his face in his hands.

Lev blinked, turquoise eyes stunned for a second before he turned the upper half of his body, "Yaku-san," he called across the patio at Yaku, who was picking up a latte at the counter, "I thought we weren't supposed to talk about the 'dom' thing?"

The entire outdoor cafe paused to stare at him. Yaku's face might have actually started hissing steam.

Oikawa and Kuroo dipped their heads down to cover their cackling.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry," Yaku apologized loudly, practically tripping over himself as he stumbled over to them, "silly foreigners, they don't know what they're talking about--"

Lev pouted down at him, "I'm not a foreigner, I speak perfect Japanese, I--"

Yaku grabbed Lev by the shirt, "I'm so sorry about him," he laughed, high and strained, "it was nice seeing you but we have to go--"

"No we--"

"Lev I swear to God if you--," Yaku started dragging him away.

Lev chuckled, "Yaku-san's 'punishments' aren't so bad."

"SHUT UP."

The moment they were out of sight Oikawa exploded into rolling laughter, slapping his hand against the table.

"You win Oikawa," Kuroo said with a shake of his head, "you win."

Kenma was also shaking his head, "I'm not sure I want to know."

After Oikawa's laughter calmed to giggles and the rest of the cafe-goers were back to sipping at their drinks, Kuroo laced his fingers together and gazed across the table at Kenma.

Kenma glanced at him, did a double-take, and then started shifting around in his seat uncomfortably. "What do you want Kuroo," he asked.

"Kenma," he said, "I think we should take our relationship to the next level."

Oikawa's eyes grew wide, mouth falling open.

Kenma glared at him, "Kuroo I swear to God if you ask me to move in with you again--"

Oikawa wheezed in horror, "Kuroo you _did_ that?"

Kuroo chuckled, "Yeah."

Oikawa sneered at him, "You are literally the worst."

Kenma nodded in agreement.

"No, I'm serious this time though," Kuroo said. The other two fell still and silent, and Kuroo pushed the newspaper across the table and tapped at an article. He smiled, "I think we should adopt a cat."

Kenma glanced down at the paper. He blinked once, stood up, and walked over the Kuroo's side of the table and tugged on the sleeve of his shirt.

"What?" Kuroo asked with a laugh in his voice. Kenma tugged again, eyes big and _sparkling_. "What, you want to go _now_?" Kuroo asked.

Kenma nodded.

Oikawa sniffed dramatically, blotting at invisible tears, "My best friends," he whimpered, "starting their own family."

Kuroo picked up the newspaper and slapped him in the head with it.

Kenma was still tugging at his sleeve. "Okay okay," Kuroo said, rising from the table. "They close in a couple hours so let's go now."

Kenma looked up at him, hands curled around the sleeves of Kuroo's jacket because of course Kenma refused to bring his own, and his eyes were bright and full of joy. Kuroo felt his heart melting. He dipped down to press a kiss to the top of Kenma's head, "You'll always be my favorite kitten though."

"Uhg, Kuroo you're so gross."

"Shut up Oikawa," Kuroo called over his shoulder with a smile.

Kenma reached over and took Kuroo's hand in his and they started walking toward the shelter together.

Kuroo could barely remember a time when it wasn't this easy. He squeezed Kenma's hand in his.

Then again, it had probably always been this easy. He had just been too stupid to realize it.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3
> 
>  
> 
> [Some wonderful people drew art for this fic and you should go scream love at them](http://suggestivescribe.tumblr.com/tagged/finding%20art).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [How Kuroo Found Kenma (Podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6780442) by [PennamePersona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PennamePersona/pseuds/PennamePersona)




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